Daily Random Quote

  • Becky and Sean had been honeymooning in Galle , on the southwestern coast of Sri Lanka, for just over a week. It hadn’t been going too well, truth be told, as Becky had become increasingly frustrated at her broadening waistline, and Sean had discovered the joys of cashew fenny liquor. You’re not getting fat, Becky, you’re pregnant! ... · ID #941 (continued)
    (next in 17h 49min…)

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  • #4441
    Jib
    Participant

      Finnley presented the plate of freshly baked round cookies to Liz who took one and watched it warily, not sure how to feel about them. Certainly the herbal chocolate made her mouth watery like the Niagara falls, but…
      “Why on earth did you give them those baby faces?” she asked.
      Finnley shrugged.
      “I’ve been taking pottery class recently and thought I could do extra practice at home. I have a project you know.”
      “Have you heard of nailed it?” Liz asked, biting in into the cheek of one chubby little cookie with melting sugary blue eyes. It distorted its laughing mouth in such a way that it looked like it was crying now. She felt a bit guilty about it, but the chocolate taste exploding in her own mouth made her forget all about it and she swallowed the other cheek.

      “Look! they can move!” said Roberto. He was pressing on the sides of one particularly creepy little face, making its mouth talk. “Give me milk!”

      “Stop playing with food, Roberto,” said Finnley. The hispanic gardener looked at her with puppy eyes and swallowed whole the baby cookie. “Showy,” he said his mouth full.
      “Where is Godfrey, now,” she muttered, “Everyone needs to taste one.

      #4436

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        glowing fence mean visit forgotten
        felt focus sunny witch behind wisdom
        hungry stories taking early under eggs
        keep laughing carefully nature

        #4432
        Jib
        Participant

          Roberto had gone to the swimming pool. He was mostly puzzled by how reality had shifted into those broken pieces that didn’t seem to fit together since he had come back from that strange tunnel with all the roots spawning strange characters from glowing pink bubbly growth.
          It must have something to do with the pink liquid leaking frrrrom those strrrange pouches, he thought.

          He looked pensively at the swimming pool. Half of it was covered by thick ice while the other half was boiling with micro bubbles rising from the bottom and the walls, and steam slowly rising in the cool spring air.

          Roberto had first thought there might be something wrong with the water cleaning mechanism of the swimming pool, but he had checked it and nothing was wrong, except the cleaning bot was stuck in the icy part of the swimming pool.

          His second thought had been that it was a fancy pool cover installed by la señora Liz. But he didn’t find the retracting mechanism. La señora Liz and la muchacha Finnley, his colleague, seemed busy with the man with the moustache. Roberto had the impression the man wanted to find a wife, he didn’t want to intrude and say anything. He had tried to talk to el mayordomo Geoffrey, but he was busy again preparing another viaje de negocios for la señora.

          So Roberto was there pondering in front of the swimming pool. That’s when he noticed the entrance of the green maze just on the other side of the pool, at the junction between summer and winter. He didn’t remember if it was there before.

          #4431
          Jib
          Participant

            That sunny day would be remembered as the day the doline shook and trembled.

            The geckoes fell from their rock, cutting all communication between the inhabitants of the hidden world. The vibrations coming from leperchauns know where had swiftly spread into the walls down to the deepest cracks and hidden chambers of the back cave far deeper than any of the inhabitants of the doline dared to show their noses. And Most of them weren’t aware at all of all that empty dark and cold and wet space. At some point, the vibrations gathered and rebounded into the bottom of the deepest caves and came back out in a roar that might have take the inhabitants’ hats off, if they wore hats.

            The bats flew away into the sunlight, blinded and deafened, bumping into each others as their fabulously acute sense of hearing was overwhelmed by the vibrations and the rich harmonics generated in the crystal chambers down below. Some fell, spiraling down as if they had been shot by some anti aerial defense. They fell in the cockroach arena and into the reservoir of dung gathered by the dung beetles, almost crushing Daisy in the process. Her father caught her safe and rolled her like the little dung beetle she was.

            The rats ran away spreading panic like plague, and while some tried to take advantage of the confusion to steal others food, when the vibration kept on shaking the ground around them and stalactites fell like fringe hail exploding into thousands projectiles, they began to fear.

            It took some time for the dust and noise to settle down, long after the vibration had ceased. All the inhabitants of the doline had gathered on the edge of the entrance, not knowing if it was safe to go back home.

            Hugo the Gecko wondered like many of the others.

            What just happened? What if it happened again? Somebody had to volunteer to go see what it was that made that noise.

            But no one came forth, all too shocked by the recent events. You could even hear some calling their families or friends.

            Hugo didn’t feel up to the task, he was too small and fragile. What if another of those big rocks fell on his soft and elastic body? It would explode like a water bomb. Except the puddle would be red. Yet, when he saw little Daisy desperately looking for her mother, something rose in him. Something he had never felt before. Some might call it courage, but Hugo didn’t have a name for it. All he knew was that he entered the doline and went down to the flat stone, calling his gecko friends on the way to follow him. Dragged along by that strange emotion that was moving their friend, they followed and listened to him when he gave them a few instructions. They resumed their place on the stone, except this time Hugo was at the center and began to draw something.

            The inhabitants of the doline had looked not understanding what the geckoes were doing, calling them reckless idiots to venture back into the broken world. But they looked at the strange shapes appearing on the flat stone at the center of the doline.

            Suddenly a voice came out of the crowd. “It’s me! I’m here!” she said and waved her little beetle legs. “Daisy, Mummy’s here!”

            Then everybody wanted to pass a message and the geckoes felt they were making a difference.

            Despite the agitation, Hugo kept wondering. What happened? Someone has to go and see.

            #4430
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              One spring day in 1822, so the story goes, Emerald Huntingford was walking the family dog on the extensive family estate, when the dog ran into a densely wooded area in hot pursuit of a rabbit. This was not uncommon, however on this occasion Emerald whistled and called but the dog did not return to her. She ran back to the house and shouted for her brother, Nigel, to help her find the it.

              After several hours of frantic searching, for it was a much loved family pet, and just as they were beginning to despair, they heard whimpering coming from a hole in the ground. They cleared away the brush covering the entrance to the hole and saw it went some way into the ground and it was here the unfortunate dog had fallen. It was too deep for them to enter unaided, so while Emerald sat with the dog and called reassuringly down to it, Nigel ran for assistance. With the help of ropes and several strong farm workers, Nigel descended into the space. To his amazement, he found himself in a clay filled dome with shallow entrances going off to other underground galleries. At that time, with his focus on the injured dog, he had no inkling of the extent of it. It was later on, after they had time to explore, that the Huntingfords started to comprehend the amazing world which existed under their land.

              Word spread, and they were offered a substantial amount of money by a mining company to mine the land. Locals, and others from further afield, wanted to visit the doline and many would try and do so, with or without seeking permission from the Huntingfords first. Some argued that if you don’t own the sky above your land, why should you have claim to the ground beneath?

              The Huntingfords were wealthy and had no need or desire to sell the rights to their land. Eventually, their patience worn thin by the aggressive mining company and invasive tourists, they decided to defend their claim to the doline in court; a claim which they won. From that time on, as one generation of the family passed the secrets of the doline to another, guards were employed to keep watch over the entrance, that none may enter the underground world without the approval of the family.

              And it seems none had, until now.

              #4426
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Albie pondered Lottie’s words. He’d been trying to forget the doline, but now he realized he’d been avoiding the inevitable. It was no good pretending there were other jobs for him, that much was becoming clear. His mission had been to protect the doline, and he’d failed.

                Or had he? A new idea was glimmering in his mind, that he hadn’t failed at all. At first he’d been so embarrassed and anxious about the security breach that he’d only seen the obvious superficial layer of events. Yes, strangers had entered the doline; true, they were not supposed to let that happen. But now he wondered, were they strangers to the doline? Who were they? Maybe they were meant to enter, and his apparent lack of attention was a providential and timely. How did he, Albie, even know for sure that he was working for the right side? What did he really know about his bosses? And what about that handsome fellow who’d slithered out of the doline, the dark eyed one with leaves in his hair?

                Albie hadn’t even told Alex about him, not after the shit hit the fan about the breach and illegal entry. The last thing he felt like doing was admitting that there had been an illegal escape as well. But Albie couldn’t stop thinking about him, the graceful way he shook the dust out of his hair, the depths of those lustrous dark eyes, his long slender fingers….

                Now, Albie was kicking himself for hiding behind a tree, for not approaching the strange man, or at least following him to see where he was going. His job was to stop people from entering. Nobody had said anything about stopping people leaving it. It was unexpected, and he’d been scared. Was it too late to try and track his movements? He’d come out of the doline, he’d have stories to tell. Albie needed to know, he needed to find him.

                He would find a way to trace him. He wondered if the new dog could help him, if he could find something with the mans scent upon it. Albie was determined to find a way.

                #4419

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  come interest mud completely forget
                  follow boring dragon ceiling spell
                  latest further dreams liz forgetful
                  realised starting towards death run quietly

                  #4417
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Lottie shook here head slowly and peered over her reading glasses at Albie.

                    “I’m sorry to say this, son, but this is utter rubbish. I really don’t think you should waste any more time on this writing lark.”

                    #4404
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      Liz left her bed at 8:30am, wearing only her pink and blue doubled cotton night gown, a perfect hair and her fluffy pink blue mules. She had been thinking about her characters while the sun was trying to rise with great difficulty. Liz couldn’t blame the Sun as temperatures had dropped dramatically since the beginning of winter and the air outside was really cold.

                      When Liz was thinking about her writings and her characters, she usually felt hungry. Someone had told her once that the brain was a hungry organ and that you needed fuel to make it work properly. She didn’t have a sweet tooth, but she wouldn’t say no to some cheesy toast, any time of the day.

                      She had heard some noise coming from the kitchen, certainly Finnley doing who knows what, although certainly not cleaning. It might be the association between thinking about her characters and the noise in the kitchen that triggered her sudden craving for a melted slice of cheese on top of a perfectly burnished toast. The idea sufficed to make her stomach growl.

                      She chuckled as she thought of inventing a new genre, the toast opera. Or was it a cackle?

                      As she was lost in her morning musings, her mules gave that muffled slippery sound on the floor that Finnley found so unladylike. Liz didn’t care, she even deliberately slowed her pace. The slippery sound took on another dimension, extended and stretched to the limit of what was bearable even for herself. Liz grinned, thinking about Finnley’s slight twitching right eye as she certainly was trying to keep her composure in the kitchen.

                      Liz, all cheerful, was testing the differences between a chuckle and a cackle when she entered the kitchen. She was about to ask Finnley what she thought about it when she saw a small person in a yellow tunic and green pants, washing the dishes.

                      Liz stopped right there, forgetting all about chuckles and cackles and even toasts.

                      “Where is Finnley?” she asked, not wanting to appear the least surprised. The small person turned her head toward Liz, still managing to keep on washing the dishes. It was a girl, obviously from India.

                      “Good morning, Ma’am. I’m Anna, the new maid only.”

                      “The new… maid?”

                      Liz suddenly felt panic crawling behind her perfectly still face. She didn’t want to think about the implications.

                      “Why don’t you use the dishwasher?” she asked, proud that she could keep the control of her voice despite her hunger, her questions about chuckles and cackles, and…

                      “The dirty dishes are very less, there is no need to use the dishwasher only.”

                      Liz looked at her bobbing her head sideways as if the spring had been mounted the wrong way.

                      “Are you alright?” asked Anna with a worried look.

                      “Of course, dear. Make me a toast with a slice of cheese will you?”

                      “How do I do that?”

                      “Well you take the toaster and you put the slice of bread inside and pushed the lever down… Have you never prepared toasts before?”

                      “No, but yes, but I need to know how you like it only. I want to make it perfect for your liking, otherwise you won’t be satisfied.” The maid suddenly looked lost and anxious.

                      “Just do as you usually do,” said Liz. “Goddfrey?” she called, leaving the kitchen before the maid could ask anymore questions.

                      Where was Goddfrey when she needed him to explain everything?

                      “You need me?” asked a voice behind her. He had appeared from nowhere, as if he could walk through the walls or teleport. Anyway, she never thought she would be so relieved to see him.

                      “What’s that in the kitchen?”

                      “What’s what? Oh! You mean her. The new maid.”

                      He knew! Liz felt a strange blend of frustration, despair and anger. She took mental note to remember it for her next chapter, and came back to her emotional turmoil. Was she the only one unaware of such a bit change in her home?

                      “Well, she followed us when we were in India. We don’t know how, but she managed to find a place in one of your trunks. Finnley found her as she had the porter unpacked the load. It seems she wants to help.”

                      #4403
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        random plot generator

                        A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.

                        Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.

                        ALBIE
                        Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

                        JENNY
                        I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!

                        ALBIE
                        I am such a person!

                        JENNY
                        I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.

                        JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

                        Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.

                        ALBIE
                        Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

                        MATT
                        I’m afraid not.

                        ALBIE
                        What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…

                        MATT
                        It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

                        ALBIE
                        Defenseless elderly ladies?

                        MATT
                        Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

                        ALBIE
                        Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.

                        MATT
                        I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.

                        ALBIE
                        You can start by telling me where this happened.

                        MATT
                        I was…
                        MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.

                        ALBIE
                        Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

                        MATT
                        The Library! That’s right – the Library!

                        ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

                        EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

                        ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

                        INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

                        ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

                        ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

                        MATT
                        What is is? What’s the matter?

                        ALBIE
                        That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!

                        MATT
                        Who’s Roger Blunder?

                        ALBIE
                        Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

                        MATT
                        Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

                        ALBIE
                        You can say that again.

                        MATT
                        Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

                        ALBIE
                        I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.

                        Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.

                        ROGER
                        Albie Jones, we meet again!

                        MATT
                        You’ve met?

                        ALBIE
                        Yes. It was a long, long time ago…

                        EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

                        A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.

                        He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.

                        ROGER
                        Would you like some wine gums?

                        ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.

                        ALBIE
                        I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.

                        ROGER
                        Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.

                        ALBIE
                        Wait, you’re a hooligan?

                        ALBIE runs away, screaming.

                        INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

                        ROGER
                        You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.

                        MATT
                        (To ALBIE) You ran away?
                        ALBIE
                        (To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
                        ALBIE turns to ROGER.

                        ALBIE
                        I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
                        ALBIE runs away.

                        He turns back and shouts.

                        ALBIE
                        I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.

                        ROGER
                        I’m not scared of you.

                        ALBIE
                        You should be.

                        INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

                        ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

                        ALBIE
                        I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.

                        MATT
                        Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.

                        ALBIE
                        You know nothing Matt Humble.

                        MATT
                        We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.

                        Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

                        ROGER
                        Looking for something?

                        MATT
                        Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.

                        ALBIE
                        Tell me something I don’t already know!

                        MATT
                        The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.

                        ALBIE
                        I know that already!

                        MATT
                        I’m afraid of dust.

                        ROGER
                        (appalled) Dude!

                        While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.

                        ALBIE
                        Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

                        ROGER
                        No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

                        JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

                        ALBIE
                        I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.

                        ROGER
                        Don’t hurt me! Please!

                        ALBIE
                        Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!

                        ROGER
                        Because Albie, I am your father.

                        ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.

                        ALBIE
                        No you’re not!

                        ROGER
                        Ah well, it had to be worth a try.

                        ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.

                        ALBIE
                        Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?

                        Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

                        MATT
                        Did he just faint?

                        ALBIE
                        I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.

                        ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

                        MATT
                        Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.

                        ALBIE
                        No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!

                        ALBIE
                        What?

                        ALBIE
                        Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.

                        MATT claps his hands.

                        MATT
                        So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.

                        JENNY steps forward.

                        JENNY
                        Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?

                        ALBIE
                        Jenny how long have you been…?

                        JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

                        JENNY
                        Long enough.

                        ALBIE
                        Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.

                        JENNY
                        Then the elderly ladies are safe?

                        ALBIE
                        It does seem that way!

                        A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

                        JENNY
                        You are their hero.

                        The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

                        ALBIE
                        There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.

                        JENNY
                        You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!

                        One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

                        JENNY
                        I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.

                        ALBIE
                        I couldn’t possibly.
                        Pause.

                        ALBIE
                        Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.

                        ALBIE takes the ring.

                        ALBIE
                        Thank you.
                        The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.

                        ALBIE turns to JENNY.

                        ALBIE
                        Does this mean you want me back?

                        JENNY
                        Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
                        ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.

                        ALBIE
                        Well you can’t have me.

                        JENNY
                        WHAT?

                        ALBIE
                        You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!

                        JENNY
                        But…

                        ALBIE
                        Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.

                        MATT grins.

                        JENNY
                        But…

                        MATT
                        You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!

                        JENNY
                        Albie?

                        ALBIE
                        I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
                        JENNY leaves.

                        MATT turns to ALBIE.

                        MATT
                        Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?

                        ALBIE
                        Of course you are!
                        The two walk off arm in arm.

                        Suddenly MATT stops.

                        MATT
                        When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?

                        #4402
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          (With thanks to random story generator for this comment)

                          Albie looked at the soft feather in his hands and felt happy.

                          He walked over to the window and reflected on his silent surroundings. He had always loved haunting the village near the doline with its few, but faithful inhabitants. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happiness.

                          Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Ma. He felt his mood drop. Ma was ambitious and a mean-spirited bossy boots.

                          Albie gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an impulsive, kind-hearted, beer drinker. His friends saw him as an amusing foolish clown. But he was kind-hearted and once, he had even brought a brave baby bird back from the brink of death.

                          But not even an impulsive person who had once brought a brave baby bird back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Ma had in store today.

                          The inclement brooding silence teased like a sitting praying mantis, making Albie anticipate the worst.

                          As Albie stepped outside and Ma came closer, he could see the mean glint in her eye.

                          Ma glared with all the wrath of 9 thoughtless hurt hippo. She said, in hushed tones, “I disown you and I want you to leave.”

                          Albie looked back, even more nervous and still fingering the soft feather. “Ma, please don’t boss me. I am going to the doline,” he replied.

                          They looked at each other with conflicted feelings, like two deep donkeys chatting at a very funny farewell.

                          Suddenly, Ma lunged forward and tried to punch Albie in the face. Quickly, Albie grabbed the soft feather and brought it down on Ma’s skull.

                          Ma’s skinny ear trembled and her short legs wobbled. She looked excited, her emotions raw like a rabblesnatching, rare rock.

                          Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Ma was dead.

                          Albie went back inside and had himself a cold beer.

                          #4400
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Inquisitive Bert
                            A Short Story
                            by trove flacy
                            Bert had always loved rambling Fish Inn with its boiled boarders. It was a place where he felt happiness.

                            He was an inquisitive, depressed, tea drinker with skinny ears and tall sheep. His friends saw him as a moaning, mashed monster. Once, he had even saved a nasty old lady that was stuck in a drain. That’s the sort of man he was.

                            Bert walked over to the window and reflected on his brooding surroundings. The rain hammered like jumping dog.

                            Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Mater . Mater was a bigoted flower with attractive ears.

                            Bert gulped. He was not prepared for Mater.

                            As Bert stepped outside and Mater came closer, he could see the lovely smile on her face.

                            Mater glared with all the wrath of 1553 honest hilarious hippo. She said, in hushed tones, “I hate you and I want information.”

                            Bert looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the new-fangled car. “Mater, I own the inn,” he replied.

                            They looked at each other with annoyed feelings, like two delicious, damaged donkey laughing at a very free house sale, which had piano music playing in the background and two sanguine uncles shouting to the beat.

                            Bert regarded Mater’s attractive ear. “I feel the same way!” revealed Bert with a delighted grin.

                            Mater looked puzzled, her emotions blushing like a loud, little letter box.

                            Then Mater came inside for a nice cup of tea.

                            THE END

                            #4398
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              “Flat as a pancake!” she said with a doleful air and grandiose waves of her hands. “The world is flat as a pancake. Oh, sure it turns, about just as slow as needed so we won’t notice, little bugs that we are on that big flat pancake.”
                              “Really? And the doline…”
                              “At the center of it, obviously.” She paused mysteriously. “And if the legends are true, when the gates open, all the other stuff freely goes in and out.”
                              “From where?” another student asked
                              EVERYWHERE” she leaned her head forward, matted hair sticking to her temple, a feverish madness twinkling her eyes. “All the dimensions take a turn, turn, turn, turn.”

                              #4393
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                They have entered, now peace is all shattered,
                                And the quiet was all that had mattered,
                                But alas that is over,
                                And blown is my cover,
                                And I’m sulky and not feeling flattered.

                                Petra was scribbling furiously in her expedition notebook, not wanting to forget the exact wording of the curious message she had received on waking from her nap behind the rocks. It was not the first time she had heard telepathic messages in rhyme, and wondered briefly about the possible connections, but then Lillianne woke up farting dreadfully, and she was distracted.

                                #4392
                                Jib
                                Participant

                                  “Tourists!” shouted Ugo the gecko to his albino friends. They all stopped and turned their heads in unison to look at the two humans who had entered the premises, inside their small chests their hearts beating fast with excitement like so many small shamanic drums that only gecko ears could hear. Ugo was so engrossed in those two humongous creatures and the hypnotic rhythm of his friends’ heartbeats that he didn’t see the suckers from his front left paw were getting loose again. They had been damaged in a fight with a twirling bat one week ago and they still hadn’t heal nicely because he didn’t care so much. Soon his left paw got detached from the ancient stones of the wall, followed by his right and soon he fell. But like he was made of sticking rubber the fall was short and he got stuck again on a lower stone, walking on the head of a few friends in the process.

                                  “Sorry for that! I’ll have them checked, promise.”

                                  Some of the geckos missed a heartbeat, frightened by the sudden turmoil. They ran in what might appear random directions and panic quickly spread among the albino geckolony on the wall. By a miracle of nature and because they were all so fascinated by tourists, the geckos rearranged nicely only to stop a sucking steps away and turned their head back again toward the tourists. Their hearts beating in unison again.

                                  “Look! that dark wall over there with the white hieroglyphs. I’m sure it just moved!” said the tallest of the tourists. She was curious and decided to go watch by herself what that curious wall was about.

                                  #4391
                                  TracyTracy
                                  Participant

                                    It had been a long time coming, but Lillianne had known there was no rush. There had been a flurry of interest many years ago, but nothing came to fruition. All the ingredients were there for a banquet of discovery, but no cooks to combine the ingredients successfully ~ until now.

                                    They’d been very careful to cover their tracks, even laying red herrings along the way. Others were interested, they knew that, and they knew they’d been followed, sensing the lurking energy trails behind them. But the main thing was, they got there first. Now was not a time to relax, despite the urge to just pause and revel in the accomplishment.

                                    “But I’m knackered, Lillianne,” whined Petra, running her hands distractedly through her tangled hair. “Surely we can take a little nap before we continue. Over there behind those rocks, look! Let’s just nip behind there.”

                                    Lillianne pursed her lips. There was no point in arguing with Petra when she was tired. And the more she thought about it, the more a short rest sounded enticing. The climb down into the dense wooded gorge had been arduous, and her ankle ached where she’d twisted it on a loose rock.

                                    “Come on then, but only half an hour!”

                                    #4387
                                    ÉricÉric
                                    Keymaster

                                      The Doline was brimming with unseen life, glistening below the twinkling star-lighted sky overhead. Albino geckos were dancing on the walls of ancient stones, while the twirling bats were hunting near the flowing streams of pristine water. Cooing late birds were singing old stories, while the scurrying rodents shuffling the leaves coverage ventured outside, carefully out of the gaze of nocturnal birds of prey.

                                      There was a traveler that day who had found the entrance long forgotten. The trees had parted to let her gain access. So it began.

                                      #4376

                                      Micawber Minn had secreted the parcel from Plovdiv in a hollow tree trunk. The bags of dried fruits were a gift for Glynnis to include in her special juices. But where was the hollow tree?

                                      #4374
                                      ÉricÉric
                                      Keymaster

                                        Godfrey hoped that the week end respite would allow him to remember some of his dreams. With Liz going out for a picnic, and the day off of the staff, he would have the mansion all for himself.

                                        #4364

                                        Rukshan had stayed awake for the most part of the night, slowly and repeatedly counting the seconds between the blazing strokes of lightning and the growling bouts of thunder.
                                        It is slowly moving away.

                                        The howling winds had stopped first, leaving the showers of rain fall in continuous streams against the dripping roof and wet walls.

                                        An hour later maybe, his ear had turned to the sound of the newly arrived at the cottage, thinking it would be maybe the dwarf and Eleri coming back, but it was a different voice, very quiet, somehow familiar… the potion-maker?

                                        He had warned Margoritt that a lady clad in head-to-toe shawls would likely come to them. Margoritt had understood that some magical weaving was at play. The old lady didn’t have siddhis or yogic powers, but she had a raw potential, very soundly rooted in her long practice of weaving, and learning the trades and tales of the weaving nomad folks. She had understood. Better, she’d known — from the moment I saw you and that little guy, she’d said, pointing at Tak curled under the bed.
                                        “He’s amazing,” she’d said “wise beyond his age. But his mental state is not very strong.”

                                        There was more than met the eye about Tak, Rukshan started to realize.
                                        For now, the cottage had fell quiet. Dawn was near, and there was a brimming sense of peace and new beginning that came with the short silence before the birds started again their joyous chatter.

                                        It must have been then that he collapsed on the table of exhaustion and started to dream.

                                        It was long before.

                                        The dragon is large and its presence awe-inspiring. They have just shared the shards, each has taken one of the seven. Even the girl, although she still hates to be among us.
                                        The stench of the ring of fire is still in their nostrils. The Gods have deserted, and left as soon as the Portal closed itself. It is a mess.

                                        “Good riddance.”

                                        He raises his head, looking at the dragon above him. She is quite splendid, her scales a shining pearl blue on slate black, reflecting the moonshine in eerie patterns, and her plastron quietly shiny, almost softly fiery. His newly imbued power let him know intimately many things, at once. It is dizzying.

                                        “You talk of the Gods, don’t you?” he says, already knowing the answer.
                                        “Of course, I am. Good riddance. They had failed us so many times, forgot their duties, driven me and my kind to slavery. Now I am free. Free of guilt, and free of sorrow. Free to be myself, as I was meant to be.”
                                        “It is a bit more complex th…”
                                        “No it isn’t. It couldn’t be more simple. If you had the strength to see it, you would understand.”
                                        “I know what you mean, but I am not sure I understand.”

                                        The dragon smiles enigmatically. She turns to the lonely weeping girl, who is there with the old woman. Except her grand-mother is no longer an old crone, she has changed her shape to that of a younger person. She is showing potentials to the girl, almost drunk on the power, but it doesn’t alleviate her pain.

                                        “What are you going to do about them?”

                                        The Dragon seems above the concerns for herself. In a sense, she is right. It was all his instigation. He bears responsibility.

                                        “I don’t know…” It is a strange thing to say, when you can know anything. He knows there are no good outcomes of this situation. Not with the power she now possesses.

                                        “You better find out quick…” and wake up,

                                        wake up, WAKE UP !

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                                      • Becky and Sean had been honeymooning in Galle , on the southwestern coast of Sri Lanka, for just over a week. It hadn’t been going too well, truth be told, as Becky had become increasingly frustrated at her broadening waistline, and Sean had discovered the joys of cashew fenny liquor. You’re not getting fat, Becky, you’re pregnant! ... · ID #941 (continued)
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