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  • #325
    Jib
    Participant

      Yann had a great night, it had been a complete mess chat with all his friends around the world :) and it was also a complete fun.

      He’d understood something big, he need not focus on abundance per se, but only on what he wanted, and not on all those obstacles to be getting rid off before being able to set the course of having what he wanted…

      Knowing that, he went to his computer and began to type, seemingly random jibberish…

      #324
      Jib
      Participant

        Yann was wandering about in a pet shop, looking for nothing in particular.

        Quintin had said something about inserting the shift now… well, that sucked… Yann was in a very bad mood, feeling like everyone was against him, nothing was going as he wanted to, and most of all he had lost inspiration. No desire to draw, or to write anything. His life was not fitting. Or so it seemed.

        Looking closer to the bird cages, and the birds inside, he was amazed at their similarities and their differences. Their shapes and sizes, their colors was the obvious parts. Their shouting also, it was quite messy, and stridulent. But what he noticed most was their behavior, some were just living their own life, proud of themselves and quite fearful when Yann was getting closer to the cage, and others were just flocking together like they couldn’t live apart. Some were singing, some crying, some just quiet and moving nervously or randomly…

        He went to the parrots room, it was written babies on the cages… they were like full sized parrots to him, very big birds!!! very colorful and impressive. But looking closer, they were not so healthy, their feathers were sort of dull, and even bad shaped and like the parrot had been attacked savagely :yahoo_thinking:. Not very impressive eventually.

        A few days ago things had become quite erratic at his work… he had felt a strong desire to change, change everything. First he couldn’t understand that desire and he resisted strongly, but soon he created some uncomfortable manifestations. Breathing difficulties, headaches, itching, and even boredom. He just felt the desire to tell bugger off to everyone.

        The birds were getting boring actually, he left the shop.

        Walking in the street among the crowd was kinda soothing his uneasiness… though at times he was like feeling what they were strongly projecting. There was that Muslim woman with her chador, and as she went right past him he had that twinge of anger against her, coming from nowhere, and as soon as he noticed that, he just moved his attention to his energy and it was over, no more anger or polarization. Was it his own feelings or was it from that young woman?

        Whatever, he just enter another shop, home shop, with little thingies and furniture… all these statues, the ones looking like 1920’s ladies were the most appealing… and there were these fairies also, wasn’t it Fiona who had told him about a dream where she was the fairy princess?
        :yahoo_daydreaming:

        :yahoo_alien:
        Oh! that pic… the man had a blue skin… with dolphins on his face creating shadows… the pic was a blend of sort, very funny, and the man was cute :yahoo_whistling: as was the shop assistant…

        Time to leave… he went off the shop and continued walking. Bright sun, fresh air, all was clearing. His mood also. He thought again about what he and Quintin had been planning. It seemed something crazy, but it also seemed related to what was happening in his life. Since Vienna, their relation had become closer and closer, and for the most part it was very endearing, very fun and also very intense. All these energies, all this creativity, it had to be part of a bigger picture.

        :yahoo_oh_go_on:

        Thinking about that, his friend Dory had told him about a bigger picture once, and he was teasing her about that… but now it was making sense. His abilities to remember his dreams had increased in a way, though most of the time he did not remember his dream in the morning. He’d noticed he could if he was just relaxing a bit and let his attention go back to that dream self of his… At times he had also some weird experiences about parallel realities and shift of perception, like the room is translucent and he can move through it in another dimension, very freaky that one :yahoo_not_listening:

        #306
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Finn moves silently along the path, placing her feet with care. It is more overgrown in the wood than she remembers, but then it is such a long time since she came this way. She can see in the distance something small and pale. A gentle gust of wind and It seems to stir, as if shivering, as if caught.

          She comes to a halt. The trees are still now, not a leaf stirs. She can hear nothing other than the sound of her own breathing. She can’t see the clearing yet either, but she remembers it’s further on, beyond the next winding of the path. She can see it in her mind’s eye though, a rough circle of random stones, with a greenish liquid light filtering through. The air smells of leaf mould and it is spongy underfoot. There’s a wooden bench, a grassy bank, and a circular area of emerald green moss. Finn thinks of it as place of enchantment, a fairy ring.

          She reaches the tiny shivering thing and sees that it is a scrap of paper, impaled on a broken branch. She reaches out gently and touches it, then eases if off the branch, taking care not to rip it further. There is a message scribbled on the paper, incomplete. meet me, is all it says now

          Finn feels dreamy and floaty. She smiles to herself, thinking of the purpose of her mission, feeling as though it is a message to her from the past. She is overwhelmed for a moment with a sense of love and acceptance towards her younger self. Yes, she whispers softly to the younger Finn, I will meet you at the fairy ring. We will talk a bit. Maybe I can help

          #305

          Quintin couldn’t sleep.
          Now he was thinking, he had delayed it for too long.
          They all had been thinking of it, talking and glossing over it for so long. Some had dreamed of it, feared it, asked for it to bugger off. Lots of pains and struggles, but it had only been clever or not so clever ways to delay the unavoidable.

          Now, he had an urge to insert it. How come he had not thought of it before. All he had to do was insert it in his reality.
          Well, that would sure mean lots of changes, but after all, no pain no gain.
          Or no abundance.

          ABUNDANCE abun·dance [ ə-ˈbən-dəns ] “The ability to do what you need to do, when you need to do it”

          That’s how Pasha, a Russian friend of Dory had defined abundance — speaking of Dory, now Quintin was seeing how she was ahead of the herd, and a bit of a coal (slow) mine canary too. Quintin would have changed all the world’s dictionaries to have that new definition everywhere. What a task…

          Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
          It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side. Struggle would be needless, and all that would be needed to do would be to stop paddling upstream.
          What a mess it could be for salmons and control freaks as himself.

          Perhaps worse, it would change everything, even “past” events where everything would also be allowed, now.
          In-of-body travels (rather than the too classical “out-of-body”), meeting other selves appearing out of nowhere, talking with dead people, or sugarplum fairies, traveling instantaneously to meet Tchaikovsky and have him change his dying swan for a stuffed talking Mother Goose, flying, shape-shifting, manifesting objects out of thin air, the possibilities would be extraordinary… All in that physical reality where everyone was struggling to prove none of this was possible.
          But if everything would be allowed, then be it! And he would go and live in 23, Dragon Alley, Phœnix Ville, Sunnyvalley with Yann (and the others of course, if they wanted to) and do whatever they wanted to do.

          OK. That’s a deal then. Release the camouflages, open the watergates and leave the damn dams to beavers and loosers.

          Let’s insert the Shift, now.

          And let the fun continue, and worry wither away.

          ***

          Well, and what’s that Shift all about?

          Quintin’s friends Michaela and Elias had said about it :

          “You are also bored in the experiences that you have created to this point. You have experienced. You have created in the manner that you have designed previously. Now you choose to be creating in an expanded experience, allowing more of your awareness, more of an opening to consciousness, more of your own creativity and your own abilities, and you are discovering that your abilities are within physical focus limitless. You have merely limited yourselves as an element of your beliefs, but as you are also moving into acceptance of your beliefs, you are widening your awareness and you are allowing yourselves to view how many more abilities you hold and how very creative you are, and not creating your limitations with such severity. Those elements in your reality that have been thought to be impossible are not impossible!” 1

          #298

          The City, year 2257

          Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

          Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
          They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
          Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

          Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

          Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
          She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

          ~~~

          Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
          — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
          — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
          — Ahahah, yes!

          Al started again to moan:
          — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

          (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

          Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
          — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
          Becky nodded
          — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
          — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

          ~~~

          While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
          A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
          — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
          Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
          — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

          — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
          — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
          — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
          Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

          So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

          — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
          — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
          Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

          Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

          Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
          — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
          — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
          Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
          Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
          — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
          TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

          Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
          — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
          — Yes, absolutely
          — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
          — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
          — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

          Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
          — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
          — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
          — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

          Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
          AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
          Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
          Then she added:

          Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
          — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
          — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
          — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
          Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

          Now, Janice was hooked:
          — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
          Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
          — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

          Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
          — Around which year? she asked
          — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
          — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
          — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
          — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
          — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
          — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
          — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
          — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
          — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

          “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
          — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

          — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
          — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

          They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

          She then remembered something else:
          — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
          … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
          Date fits again, she said in awe.
          — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
          — Hmmm
          — Hmmm
          — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
          — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

          Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
          Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
          Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
          — “I am not sure about that!”
          — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
          — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
          — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
          — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
          — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
          — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
          — Bit bossy Princess
          — Which dynasty?
          III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
          — What year?
          Janice projected the timeline below then said
          — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

          They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

          Rodney was seeing something else
          — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
          Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
          — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
          — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
          — Exactly
          — And they communicated because they are helping each other
          — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
          — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
          — Yes! resulting in confusion!

          And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

          #85
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Eric! Your latest comment resembles more than a little the episode of Lost I saw on tv last night. I take it you didn’t watch it too haha…..
            In a nutshell, an exhausted bird on the shore next to the sea that had separated from the other birds (which were scared off by a loud gunshot nearby)…..the guy intuitively knew exactly where to go to find it (he can see future probabilities, incidentally) and he picked the bird up…the point of which was to tie a message to the tagged bird in the hopes of being rescued off the desert island (which is not unlike the one Roselyn Chiara and Illi are ‘currently’ on….)…
            In other words, a ‘talking’ bird….
            OH and the bird in Lost was ‘from other lands’ too, a tagged migrating bird….

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              This is a thread for referencing terms, creatures and other funny words that may be useful to find easily…
              Don’t hesitate to post your suggestions below, that I will integrate later.

              Races

              • Dragons
              • Gripshawks [ ˈgrip-ˌshȯk ]: feline-like race.
              • Humans
              • Uglings

              Creatures

              • capricorn [ ˈka-pri-ˌkȯrn ]: goat-like fish-tailed aquatic creature
              • fincheon [ ˈfin-chən ]: grey ugly birds, with the particularity of being extremely discreet (almost invisible) with a great sense of orientation, and loyalty to their owner. They are mostly used as message deliverers
              • glukenitch [ ˈglu̇-ˌken-nitch ] (Gripshawk dialect: [ ˈglu̇k-ˌnitch ]) : Slimy wet creatures fearing light, sharing one mind, found in Malvina’s cave. Useful recyclers of garbage, their droppings emit a glowing bluish halo, until they dry up completely and coalesce into a glassy substance.
              • golfindel [ ˈgōl-ˌfin-dəl ] : golden coloured cetacean, found in Golfindely.
              • grake [ ˈgrāk ]: big birds of Golfindely, with colours like mandarin ducks and shaped as geese.
              • indogo [ ˈin-dō-ˌgō ]: blue type of flamingo living in the Eastern Lagunas of Lan’ork.
              • langoat [ ˈlan-ˌgōt ]: daft three-eyed goat-like creature living in the Dragon Head Peninsula, the wool of which has many magical uses (enchanted cloaks, tapestries etc.). Their milk is known to have remarkable healing powers too.
              • marmoth [ ˈmär-məth ]: big toothed hibernating woolliphants
              • saurhse [ ˈsȯr-əs ] : bidepal saurian used as a mount in Asgurdy.
              • schpurniatz [ ˈshpər-ˌniats ] : bat-like creatures, found in dark caves.
              • sparfly [ ˈspär-ˌflī ] : birds usually seen in couples, loving to nest in silgreen trees, and their songs is one of the Treasure of the Worlds.
              • weaszchilla [ ˈwēz-ˌchi-lə ]: little mouse-like ferret

              Magical Artefacts

              • buntifluën [ ˈbənti-ˌflün ] (or [ ˈbau̇nti-ˌflün ]): A magical artefact having in most of its variations the form of a knot-like object, which allows the wearer or bearer to communicate directly with the energy of sentient beings.
              • glubolín [ ˈglü-bȯ-ˌlin ]: A device made from unhatched dragon eggs of the same brood, that allows people to communicate through it.
              • sabulmantium [ ˈsā-bəl-ˌman(t)-shəm ] (or [ ˈsā-bu̇l-ˌman(t)-shəm ]): A device made from rare unhatched dragon egg with crystalline transparent shells, which is filled with sands. May be used as a divination device or as a compass, in any case as an intent focusing device.

              Plants

              • buckberry [ ˈbək-ˌbe-rē ]: fruit of wild buckberries shrubs, in the form of big electric blue-vermilion reddish berries, known to have thwarted all attempts to be grown in gardens.
              • grogonut [ ˈgrō-ˌgə-nət ] tree: a tree indigenous of the warm coasts of Golfindely, known to provide grogonuts, which have a wide range of uses (food, drinks, cups etc.) depending on the maturation level of the nut.
              • silgreen [ ˈsil-ˈgrēn ] tree: a big decorative shrub, blooming sparkling flowers of emerald and silver once every moon. Leafs can have medicinal use too.

              More here later…

              #83
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Where the Janitor may assist you in navigating into the things available in your reality.
                (a help-thread in short)

                Note: the Janitor declines any responsibility for any loss or any Patel “pop-in” that may mess up with your reality.

                Textile format help
                or here
                to test your formatting

                #262
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Fiona woke suddenly from a dream. In her dream she had been communicating with her online friends, through drawings and messages. She had been trying so hard to convey something, and the more she tried to say it, the more distant they felt to her.

                  She had woken feeling saddened. Her energy was greatly disturbed, and, unable to get back to sleep straight away, she meditated. She felt herself connect with the energy of a Snowy Owl, who invited her wordlessly to ask her questions. The Owl’s eyes seemed to have such a depth of wisdom and kindness, and no sooner had her thoughts begun to ask their questions, than she would feel the Owl’s answer merge with her own knowing.

                  She felt herself being able to say without words what she had tried so hard in her dream to convey, and understanding there was no need for any effort, she felt greatly comforted, and peaceful sleep swept over her again.

                  #212
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    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?

                    #200
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Lord Wrick was reading a bedtime story to his great grandson, Cuthbert. A huge open fire roared beneath the stone mantelpiece, and cast tall flickering shadows in the dark corners of the room. Cuthbert snuggled in to his great grandad, who pulled the red tartan shawl up under his chin. The Orkney Islands were cold in September, and a chill draught was ever present in the ancient castle. Cuthbert’s twin sister India Louise had already been taken to bed by Nanny Gibbon, who would read her a story in the nursery.

                      “Back from the depths of his sleep, the dragon Naasir exhaled in a puff of smoke” read Great grandfather Wrick. “He’d just woven a wonderful dream…”

                      A parcel had arrived at the castle yesterday, delivered by a travelling artist, who had been invited to paint portraits of the Wrick family. There was no message with the parcel, and the artist, Bill Jobsworth, explained that an old woman in black had given it to him at the crossroads, asking him to deliver it to Cuthbert and India Louise Wrick.

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