Search Results for 'may a'

Arona and Mandrake sat side by side looking into the glass ball filled with sand. They had been practising for some time, and had both become quite proficient at shifting the sand.

So what shall we make now Mandrake? Something we both like maybe?

A fish perhaps? suggested Mandrake

Oh excellent idea! and no sooner was it thought of than the sand would shift accordingly.

Scrambled eggs I think too, on chunks of homemade bread, said the still hungry Arona, and chocolate!

Some milk for me, said Mandrake

Hmmm not sure about that Mandrake. Lots of cats have allergies to cows milk.

Mandrake rolled his eyes And chocolate might make you fat, he said, but was I so rude as to mention it? and Mandrake created a hairy cow, and a farmer to milk the cow.

Arona laughed, and created a little sand langoat, just in case the stubborn Mandrake changed his mind. Langoat’s milk would be much better for him she thought.

The glass ball was now filled with a miniature world of sand objects.

Arona leaned back against the wall and stroked Mandrake. She felt very fond of the grumpy cat. The feeling of being able to create whatever she wanted had been fun. Perhaps, she thought, her creations were rather rudimental at this stage, but then already she could feel bigger things brewing within her as her confidence grew. She felt as though the sand game had focused her, like a beam of light which shone only on that which was intended.

Arona closed her eyes and allowed her mind to open and reach out, something she knew she had always been able to do easily, but her fear of the “madness” had made her cautious and hide these abilities, till she became unsure of them. The “madness” was the term the people in her Village had given to the poor wretched wandering ones, who claimed to hear voices and communicate with Gods. Once as a child she had seen the Villagers drive one of these poor souls from the Village, shouting and abusing him. She did not really understand what he had done, only that the Villagers were afraid of him. So Arona had felt it was better to keep some things to herself.

Arona left her mind open and allowed images to enter. Some of the images she did not understand, and she let them flow on, enjoying the energy of them notwithstanding. She saw a dragon, it was not the one with the mouthful of riddles, but another one, a baby one she felt. Her ability to see pictures was quite rusty, but she felt a connection with this baby dragon and a great fondness for it.

She felt a great peacefulness in her body, a knowledge that walking in the world of magic would be easier from now on

Jadra slept fitfully. He was in the forest and he dreamed of a great tidal wave sweeping over him. He was holding on for dear life to the branches of a tree while angry faces swept by him in the water, shouting abuse at him, although he could not make out the words.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” he shouted back.

But then, to his horror he saw his left hand separate from his arm and he could no longer hold on. He saw his hand being swept out to sea and all that mattered was that he find it again. He let to of the safety of the tree and felt himself being pulled by the waves.

Jadra awoke trembling and shaking in terror. He looked for his left hand on the end of his arm, where it should be, but he could not see it. He knew what had happened. He had thrown his hand in the river. He thought it was sticks and stones he had thrown in, but he had been mistaken. He knew that now. He had to go and find his hand in the river.

Jadra felt such anguish. Not so clever Jadra Iamaman. You stupid old Fool

Forgive me! he shouted to the Gods. Whimpering in pain he rushed back the way he had come, back through the forest to the spot where he had last seen his hand. He threw himself into the water and dived down deep, not caring he could not swim, only knowing his hand was in there somewhere.

There were very few people around that early in the morning, but a small boy saw Jadra go in the water and stood watching. He waited and waited, and when he knew for sure there was something wrong he raised the alarm.

Jadra felt a great peacefulness sweep over him. He stopped fighting and abandoned himself to the mighty current of the water. A unicorn swam by him in the water and whispered to him she would take him to safely home.

They pulled Jadra’s body from the water a mile down river.

Yann have been working on the drawing sporadically, several subject were coming to his mind at the same time and he wanted to treat them all… All what he could do for the moment was just draw some sketches of all that… there was that scene with his niece and the dragon-boy, and that other scene where he could see that man on a dinosaur-like mount…

At times he could also feel the gentle energy of his dear friend Amanda. He’d wanted to meet her in Vienna in June, but unfortunately she couldn’t attend the meeting. She was participating in his current exploration of art. It was like he could feel many energies from different people and different beings and he could choose to express them as he wanted.

Some could be translated just in movement, like just drawing lines and create a harmonious disposition and interactions between them, suggesting other lines that weren’t fully expressed or weren’t expressed at all.

Some others could be translated as colors and shades, contrast and iridescence… possibilities were infinite.

He was wondering how he could introduce the gentle energy of his friend, but maybe it had already been incorporated.

Salome was feeling a draw to the cave…

She was focusing her energy slightly differently now, in order to manifest in this dimension an aspect of herself.

Cuthbert woke up with a start, and called for Nanny Gibbon. What a horrible nightmare he was having!

CURSED HAND, YOU HAVE GIVEN ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF. I WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE A HAND THAN HAVE SUCH A WICKED, EVIL APPENDAGE ATTACHED TO MY BODY.

Cuthbert trembled and checked his hands. Phew! they looked normal.

GOOD RIDDANCE HAND. MAY YOU ROT IN THE BOTTOM OF THIS RIVER AND NEVER AGAIN INFLICT YOUR EVIL ON ANY OTHER POOR UNSUSPECTING SOUL.

Nanny I just had an awful dream! Cuthbert clutched Nanny Gibbon’s dressing gown, and shuddered. There was this madman, Nanny, by a river, and he kept shouting about an evil hand….

There, there, Bertie, it was only a dream. How about a nice piece of Manon’s Yorkshire parkin and a cup of cocoa?

Everywhere Jadra went he could feel hostile eyes upon him. He knew why of course; he knew they were jealous because he had been favoured by the Gods. So he kept his hand safely hidden, wrapped in his shirt

Jadra had a plan. He put his shirt back on and pulled the sleeve on the left arm down as far as it would go, till his left hand could no longer be seen. He modelled a new hand roughly out of twigs and plants and walked to the river. On the way he shouted at the top of his voice CURSED HAND, YOU HAVE GIVEN ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF. I WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE A HAND THAN HAVE SUCH A WICKED, EVIL APPENDAGE ATTACHED TO MY BODY.

After shouting such sentiments till his voice was hoarse and he knew he had drawn sufficient attention he threw the hand in the river. He had cunningly weighted the hand with pebbles he had found in a cave so it would sink to the bottom of the river.

GOOD RIDDANCE HAND. MAY YOU ROT IN THE BOTTOM OF THIS RIVER AND NEVER AGAIN INFLICT YOUR EVIL ON ANY OTHER POOR UNSUSPECTING SOUL.

HA! He thought, tremendously pleased with himself for executing such a perfectly clever plan. That should throw the evil hounds off the scent of Jadra Iamamad.

He felt he was not far from the cave now.

“What are you doing?” said the little girl.

Getting no answer she asked it again.

“What are you doing?”

She approached the strange being that was so engrossed in its activity, or maybe it couldn’t hear her, she thought dreamily. She put her hand through the big (what color was that) beast.

She thought about that a little and tried to seize one of those big berries.

That worked, she could at least grasp one of those, not two, her hands were too small, but one was as big as that ball her father was so fond of playing with… she couldn’t remember what he called it. Well it mattered not, she could grasp one of them

It was a bit warmer than she would have thought. A bit mushy, and very soft. She had a very pleasant sensation caressing it, it was electric and watery and she laughed.

The beast stopped what it was doing. Did it hear her laugh? It began eating the berries again.

She stroked the berry and felt the funny laugh emerge from her chest. When it burst out the beast stopped again.

“Oh you can hear me laugh!” She said, unaware of her hand gently rubbing the surface of the berry.

“Grumpf!” did the beast.

Its eyes were beginning to change, from yellow to a kind of blue with some tiny stars in them. The girl giggled and was suddenly face to face with a little boy.

“What are you doing here” said the boy.

“These are my berries, you can’t eat them.”

She was a bit startled by his first words and she already had forgotten the weird beast.

“I just wanted to play, they are so soft and they make me laugh.”

She couldn’t help another giggle.

The boy still seemed wary of her and began to move.

Sanso was beginning to feel an urge to move. Waiting under the door in the ceiling in the cave tunnel, just watching India Louise and Illi fade in and out of view, and waiting for Dory and the parrot to return was getting boring. He was a wanderer by nature, and so he wandered off along the tunnel. He didn’t stop to wonder which tunnel to choose when he came to a junction, he just went with whatever one he happened to choose. He didn’t really mind where he ended up, that was the thing. This philosophy had always seemed to work well for him, because he ALWAYS ended up somewhere interesting; somewhere where he couldn’t imagine not being, once he was there, as if it was always the ‘right’ place to be, and at the ‘right’ time to be there.

The cave tunnel was becoming wider and less cramped. Sanso straightened his back and quickened his pace, and started to sing.

Hello Dolly, oh helloooo Dolly, do de dooo de do do dodedodedooooo……. chuckling to himself and wondering where on earth did THAT come from….. Oh helloooooo Dolly……

and walked right into a coatstand, of all things, getting splodged in the face with a rather smelly wet blue cape. The coatstand teetered and Sanso grabbed it to stop it falling over. There was a note pinned onto it:

Watch my shifting, Tell the time; Shape me wet, and Lose me dry; Colour me pink and grey and gold, and Find the secrets that I hold, What am I?

Sanso didn’t hesitate for a single moment. SAND!

Sanso grinned with delight at guessing the riddle so quickly, and then laughed out loud. How clever am I, he said, I guessed the answer to my own riddle! Still chortling, Sanso gave the wet cape a fond pat and set off again.

The tunnel was widening and eventually broadened into a cavern. Bright sparkling shafts of sunlight were beaming down from several holes in the cavern roof.

Sanso blinked a few times and squinted until his eyes became accustomed to the light. The cavern was huge, and everywhere he looked were paintings and markings on the walls, even the places impossible to reach. Some were creatures, some were symbols, in black and red and yellow and orange.

Sanso was entranced. He sank down to a sitting position, and then stretched out flat on his back, gazing at the markings on the walls. He stretched his arms out, filling his palms with sand and then letting it go, and trailing his fingers through the sand…sand…..

Sand! I may have got the riddle, thought Sanso, but I didn’t get the POINT of the riddle being there in the first place!

HHMM, I’m not so clever after all……

“HAHAHA! it is your first step now. Let me just remind you that you need not play MY game, the game is yours, ever.” said Georges.

Dory was feeling a bit confused now. What was he talking about, what game? And first step to what? She couldn’t hold to the anger nor the irritation; all of that was feeling not real or not here, or not there for all she knew.

“The direction you follow is your choice, and where I come from is not relevant to this conversation. You may say I come from yourself and indeed you called me and I wanted company. Do you want more coleslaw?”

Without waiting for her answer he refilled her plate with the tasty food.

All those smells,… she could feel so many different things, things that appeared not to be here. A movement caught her attention in her periphery. As she turned her gaze whatever was there had vanished. And this humming, it was like music, but not very clear… if she could just focus more on it, yes like that, she was feeling sooo calm and she began laughing.

“Hahahah… haha. Did you drug the coleslaw?” She asked, trying to appear angry and unhappy, but all she could do was smile and laugh.

The images around her were shape-shifting, there were many colors, some of them she didn’t know could be possible, the walls were melting of sort and becoming transparent, or just fluid maybe…

“Well you see how it’s easy to relax. Let’s see where you want to go now my dear Rafaela”, he said winking.

And everything turned into a great maelström but she felt secure and could feel his presence reassuring, and there were all those other faces and places, some felt very familiar, had she ever been there before?

Georges smiled a bit toothy grin and said ‘I won’t spoil you’

You mean I have to guess? asked Dory, who thought it was beginning to seem like an odd way to make someones acquaintance; first them appearing out of nowhere, and then expecting one to guess where they came from.

Hahahahah! You may offer your impression, Dory, not your guess! laughed Georges.

Well, pffft, thought Dory, I didn’t ask you to come, here you arrive, unannounced, unexpected and you expect me to play your guessing games!

Becky and Sam were chatting on the phone. I want a day off from shifting, Becky sighed.
I was saying that yesterday, Sam said, bugger off the shift.

Becky was reading the rough notes for the new dimensional reality play they were working on with some friends from the create-your-own-drama group

“You eat with me? Come on, sit down and tell me how you got there?” who is saying this, Georges or Dory? Becky asked Sam. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was finding the plot increasingly hard to follow.

Dory, Sam replied, and then added, In my perception.

Becky sighed, and then giggled, making a mental note to review the criteria for Day Off Shifting Day… It could be an awful lot of fun, too, this shifting, maybe Focus on Fun Day instead…

… She needs to be like a host, Sam was saying. Becky hadn’t been listening properly and wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

Ok, so pretend I am Dory right now and I say: How did you get here Georges?

Hahahahh I won’t spoil you! Sam laughed, and Dory harumphed a bit to herself, wondering how to deal with the unexpected appearance of Georges. Not that she wasn’t delighted at the surprise visit, and quite charmed by him.

‘Enchanté’ he’d said, and she giggled again.

To Sam she said Oh I thought that would be an easy help. Then she had an idea.

I will write Georges smiled a big toothy grin, and said ‘I won’t spoil you’

After Arona said she was hungry, the energy of Malvina disappeared, and once again Arona found herself alone in the cave.

She found this quite irritating. They are really bit rude around here, she muttered.

Arona sat down on the floor of the cave and considered her options. She was tired of the cave and could barely remember what had drawn her here in the first place.

It had been the music of course. She had wanted to find the source of the music. However for the most part she decided her experience had been rather disappointing.

(Arona was never at her best when hungry and this was causing her to quickly forget some of the wonderful experiences with the music and the paintings, and take a rather negative view of events.)

All I have done is wander around dark passageways really.

And now, to top it all off, apparently things are shifting. In the name of heaven what does that mean?

AND if one more person tells me to use my magic I will probably scream or something!

Perish the thought, came a grumpy voice from a particularly dark corner. Your moaning is quite sufficiently bad enough.

And Mandrake the cat emerged from the shadows and made himself comfortable on Arona’s lap. This is great, much more comfortable than the ground he purred.

Oh cute, said Arona, a talking cat.

Cute yourself, responded Mandrake, love your cape by the way.

(Mandrake was prone to sarcasm, considering it a perfectly valid form of humour.)

Arona stroked Mandrake’s soft black coat and tried her hardest to work out what to do. It was all feeling a bit bleak at the moment, the ever changing cave, the half light, the heat and humidity… and especially her hunger.

Mandrake sighed in an impatiently eggsagerated sort of a way.

Heavens to murgatroyd^¹, how can I relax with your incessant thinking? Okay so here’s an easy one for you: what’s the most important thing about magic?

All of a sudden Arona felt a flash of lightness and a sense of new energy moving within her.

of course! She exclaimed delightedly, hugging the less than enthusiastic Mandrake, you have to believe in it!

—

[¹] Note from the editor: Mandrake being a very educate cat from noble ancestors, some of its speech may be difficult to grasp for the average reader, which was certainly not the case for the astute Arona.
Anyway, here is some complement on that ‘Murgatroyd’ .

Fiona wandered slowly along the road to the supermarket in the Village, deep in thought, pondering a recent dream. In her dream she had been talking to someone from the power company. He was very chatty. Eventually he asked her if she had any issues with her power service. In her dream she had started to focus on some electricity issues she was experiencing. Well as a matter of fact I do, she had replied. At which point the man from the power company had abruptly cut the call short.

In her dream she felt a little put out, although resolved to let the power company know later.

The message of the dream felt clear enough, it was her focusing on the difficulties which cut her connection. Yet this presented Fiona with some difficulty, because she dearly loved to analyse even when this did mean focusing on not so pleasant things, though she had been aware for some time how this mental work would deplete her energy.

Actually there was almost a feeling of grieving in her. To let go of this part of her felt like losing something warm and comforting in it’s familiarity, like a well worn and loved article of clothing. It left her wondering a bit about her own identity.

On the way back home, laden with bags of shopping, Fiona saw Jarrod.

Jarrod was lying on a park bench conversing loudly to himself. Well, Fiona mentally corrected herself, to someone I can’t see anyway.

They just don’t understand reality he was saying vehemently they just don’t get it.

Fiona smiled to herself, noticing Jarrod getting a few concerned looks from the well dressed locals. With his bare feet, unkempt hair and long beard he would stand out even if he wasn’t shouting at the top of his voice. She decided to try and sneak past herself, he looked like maybe today he would not recognise her anyway.

FIONA!

She turned back.

Hey Jarrod

Fiona, here’s the thing. Here’s the question okay. Should we swim up-stream or down? Fiona what do you think? Should we head for the Source or the Ocean? Up river or down? We’re on the edge of a new era Fiona. So what will it be, the shallows or the rapids?

Before she needed to come up with an answer Jarrod’s attention was diverted by the shopping bags.

FOOD! Great is that for me Fiona?

Arona eventually woke from her sleep, still tangled in the images from her dreams. Unable to remember these images she was left feeling as though she were adrift in a boat on the ocean, not caring where the wind and waves may take her.

She had no feeling that morning. It was as though a door had closed in her mind, shutting out the part that could feel. She did not know, nor care, whether she was shutting out joy or sorrow, only that some part of her wanted to be alone.

She remembered the words of the older woman who had sat with her and soothed her to sleep. Or was she already asleep? Was the woman a dream?

Use your magic, she had said.

When she was young, in the Village, magic had come easily to Arona. When did it end?. She screwed up her eyes trying to concentrate. It hadn’t ended all at once. Did it start to end with the cloak her parents had given her?

Arona shook her head briskly and thoughts, like leaves in the wind, lifted and fell back to earth again in new formations.

The candle still burned brightly and her attention was drawn to the heavy wooden door, knowing she could not put it off any longer. In her bag of treasures was a key. It had been given to her at the beginning of her 21 ^st year, as was custom in the Village. It was no surprise to her that it fitted the lock perfectly.

Thank you for having me room, she said as she left.

No, thank YOU, replied the sleepy glukenitch.

The door led directly into another space, larger, brighter. She could sense someone there, but not in solid form. It was a beautiful woman who Arona felt an immediate affinity with, and then a strange sadness came unbidden.

Why sad?

I have no clue answered Arona briskly, quickly shutting the door back on these pesky emotions.

You always know, just feel it

So Arona closed her eyes tightly and allowed herself to feel the answer.

Because you know who you are, and it made me realise I have no idea who I am.

Mmmmmmm, said the woman, maybe you would care to look at my new paintings. Actually they are some of yours.

Intrigued, Arona felt this would be a suitable distraction and she looked with much interest.

The first painting was of a child, in a beautiful meadow of flowers. The child appeared to be completely absorbed, concentrating on a small blue butterfly which had lighted on her finger.
The picture itself moved and changed shape as though it were a portal to another living, breathing world. In the corner of the picture were some other children who seemed to be playing happily together.

Arona, who had felt immediately connected with the young child frowned.

Doesn’t the little girl feel left out?

Go in, said the woman, Go inside the picture and feel the answer.

Oh, and you might want to leave your cloak behind.

So Arona did, and she became the child, but also stayed herself, observing the scene. She felt the child’s happy fascination in her connection with the butterfly. Not just the butterfly. She could feel her connected with the earth, and the gentle breezes and the beautiful flowers … The child was deeply contented, absorbed in the moment, moving happily with the flow of her interest.
I remember feeling like that, thought Arona, before the magic went.
She gently drew the child’s attention to the other children and felt the flow of energy between them. The child was so sure of who she was and where she wanted to be, and Arona could feel the loving acceptance of her playmates.
As the child’s attention went to the others, one of the children looked up and came running over. They sat together and laughed at some funny rabbits which had appeared in the meadow.

Arona returned to the cave.

You look troubled

Well, Arona felt a little perplexed. It’s all very well playing with butterflies and rabbits in a meadow, but it is not terribly practical.

On the contrary, perhaps it is very practical. Would you like to see another of your paintings?

Suspended gracefully between two posts was a beautiful, glistening spider web. Little drops of rain hung like jewels on a chain. An enormous spider waited patiently in the shadows. As Arona watched a small insect happened at that moment to be caught, and the spider began to creep along the delicate lines.

Arona shuddered a little. I might not jump into that one .

The woman laughed, Use your magic Arona. Weave your magic web and let it all come to you.

Oh you are the second person to tell me to use my magic. An old lady came to me in my dreams, I think.

Well I gave her the same advice, years ago.

More damn riddles, Arona thought to herself, and the woman laughed.

One final painting of yours I would like to show you. It is beautiful is it not?

Arona stared mesmerised for a moment, and then leapt right in.

She sat among an audience, captivated by the dancers on the stage ahead. Beautiful music played and it reminded Arona of the music she had heard earlier. The dancers leapt and twirled and Arona was enraptured.

Dance Arona, she heard the woman’s voice

I can’t dance like that, I’m not good enough.

It doesn’t matter

And Arona could not hold back any longer and entered the body of one of the dancers. She did not know the dance so she made up her own steps, and strangely this seemed to fit perfectly with the other dancers.

Back in the cave the woman seemed to be listening to something Arona did not think she could hear.

Things are shifting she said

Oh lordy, are they said Arona, What should I do now?

Feel the answer

Arona felt. I am very hungry, eggceptionally so.

Arona felt tiredness sweep over her.

hmmm maybe I will rest a little before I continue my journey, and she lay down on the cloak and wondered what dreadful fate may befall her.

All of a sudden she knew she was no longer alone in the dim light of the cave. An older woman was seated next to her. Someone who seemed strangely familiar to her.

You called me,

the woman said, and laughed gently

I remember this cloak well,
You get rid of it soon

And she gently stroked Arona’s hair.

Use your magic

she whispered as Arona fell asleep

Illi set off at a brisk trot in search of the cave. A deafening clap of thunder made her flinch and lose her footing. She slipped, and slid down a steep slippery wet bank, tumbling and rolling out of control. Arrgghh! How embarrassing, she thought, I hope no-one is watching….OUCH! She banged her head on a strangely perfect long oblong stone, which catapulted her into the air and into a cork oak tree. Lordy! She clung onto the knobbly grey bark, trembling and gasping.

Well, I may as well have a smoke and catch my breath, she thought, at least it’s fairly dry here in this tree. She inched upwards until she found a comfortable fork in the branches and leaned her back against the trunk, fishing in the pockets of her tartan jacket for her Camels and her lighter.

Ahhhh….that’s better! Now, where are we? Illi felt more optimistic, and surveyed the terrain. AHA! In a little dip behind the tree was a dark hole in the ground. That will lead to a cave, I’m sure of it! Illi lit another smoke, musing that she might never have found the cave entrance had she not banged her head on the strange oblong stone, and hurtled into the tree.

Feeling much more enthusiastic, Illi climbed down out of the tree and went to investigate the dark hole in the ground. HHmmmm…no sign of a rope, or steps, no light, she wondered what to do next. A voice boomed in her head TRUST! Trust is the key!

Suddenly feeling very devil-may-care and adventurous, Illi dived into the hole head first… wwwwhhhheeeeeee HOOOOO…… the free-fall was exhilarating, exciting, wildly fun….and then a little voice of doubt crept in, Are you stark raving MAD?

Whallop! Illi landed on something soft, something sodden and smelling a bit of mold. Momentarily stunned, she just lay there, in a heap on the soft wet lump.

“Holy MOLY” the soft wet lump shouted “Get OFF me! How incredibly RUDE to land on me like that without so much as an introduction!”

Illi trembled.

Fiona could feel herself on the verge of doing something radical. In fact she had decided. She was not sure what exactly she had decided, but definitely a decision had been made. She had noticed how often she had been deleting her posts lately on an online blog she kept.

It was clearly a sign.

Fiona enjoyed deleting. Quintin and Dory were rather odd about her deleting. Quintin especially, who apparently never deleted anything. She wondered if this was reflected in other aspects of his life. Maybe he was a hoarder, barely able to move for all the things surrounding him. Dory tended to be a bit of hoarder, she often confessed to this trait. Nothing wrong with hoarding of course, thought Fiona. It is perfectly fine.

Fiona resisted a sudden impulse to go and delete her whole blog, for now anyway.

She was not quite sure what form her decision would take, but realised she felt distinctly peaceful.