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  • Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete. A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called ... · ID #270 (continued)
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  • #2179

    The scene was recreated, the characters had not disappeared… They were only shifting.

    The cloud puffed words out:

    “mouse escape sort library getting silly
    finally play gloria added sometimes coon
    speak skull try mongoose open later read
    otherwise mad”

    Note to self: premature shifting can be traumatic.

    #1282
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Speaking of toomoorroow, Elizabeth,there is something I have been meaning to say to you for some time now. Godfrey cleared his throat nervously. Somehow with all our deep, and incredibly meaningful philosoophising about life, I clean forgot to mention it.

      Clean is hardly the word I would have used whilst anywhere in the vicinity of this ooffice, muttered Finnley, mostly to herself, as she attempted to dislodge a large spooder web from the corner of the ceiling.

      Godfrey hesitated. He looked down and with somewhat unusual preoccupation made spiral patterns in the thick layer of dust on the window ledge.

      Godfrey, what is it? asked Elizabeth starting to feel some alarm. Oh in the name of Floove, you haven’t found another Felicity have you!

      No, nothing like that. The thing is, you see … well …

      Spoot it out! You are driving me Madder than Almad! snapped Elizabeth, losing patience, and craving nicobeck. She knew that meddlesome Finnley would take great delight in reporting her to Mr Arak if she smoked in the ooffice.

      Godfrey sighed and looked up, directly into Elizabeth’s beautiful violet, albeit rather bloodshot, eyes.

      I have been offered a position managing a poonut farm in Noo Zooland. I start immediately. It is a dream come true for me Elizabeth. I had to accept.

      No! screamed Elizabeth.

      Yes, I am afraid so. Goodbye dear Elizabeth. We both knew I was a rubbish pooblisher. Why don’t you see if that chap Bronkel will come back?

      Good riddance I say! said Finnley as Godfrey walked out the door. You two have done nothing but speak noonsense in a hooty tooty accent since that man arrived.

      #1278

      Salome was recalling her first steps on the Murtuane as she was fondly turning a small pale greenish stone into her palm. The stone was smooth, with a milky shine and had a diffuse warmth.

      It was carrying many of her memories of this time. She’d taken it from the shores of the Kandulim that first night, taking the rough stone as something to cling on, and firmly grasp, to bring herself back to her own senses, and drown her fearfulness and disorientation in the strong presence of feeling alive.

      She’d kept it for a while, and then had started to learn how to use stones to encode certain information. Of all the shiny crystals that she could have used, she’d preferred to keep the rough unpolished stone because of its genuineness.
      Encoding it wasn’t as easy as for more regular crystalline structures found in more precious stones, yet it was almost as if she’d wanted this one to bear the mark of her mastery at this art.

      She wasn’t very educated, and had not seen much of the Earth, but she had known at once that this place where they had docked the dinghy after that epic escape from the Sultan’s palace wasn’t like anything she could have found on Earth. Somehow, even her own body had begun to reflect that alien-ority to her.

      The stone was showing her scenes she had conveniently let slip away from her current focus. As she was seeing them, appreciation was overflowing her heart. It had taken her a while to get accustomed to this place and eerily enough, despite that lack of familiarity, she’d had a knowing that she was meant to be there.

      Her thirst of discovery was as immense at that time —not that it was less at the moment, but the contrast between her ignorance and the things she knew she could access had been stark and bitterly felt.

      She couldn’t help but smile at the scene of her past self learning to read and write. When Madame Chesterhope had taken her under her wing in her schemes to approach the Sultan with a worthy price, she had begun to learn from her a modicum of English language, but she would never have dreamt of learning how to read.

      And there, how ironic that the first place she would learn that, of all the many languages she would learn over the course of their explorations with Georges, was a place from another dimension, with a language she only started to feel she could utter the sonorities of.

      It was no mistake Leonard had brought them here first. Now she was thinking back, reminiscing this period of time, she recognized how much she loved the languages of the Turmakis. For her, it was as close as “home” a foreign culture could be called.

      #1274

      — “What do you think then? Aren’t you interested in going away a few days for a visit in that new City?” Al asked Tina
      — “Well, I don’t know”, she answered, her voice muffling down to a whisper. Or more precisely, not a whisper, but a soft transition into a telepathic mode. That non-verbal mode of communication was recently the most efficient way they’d found to exchange without need for lengthy explanations.

      That way, lots of discussions were held at once, and answers instantly given to a whole range of multiplexed questions.

      “You know,” Al continued after a moment “that guy we met last time, Sam’s friend…”
      “Yes, Armando” Tina answered telepathically

      “Yeah. He’s got his flying car model perfected; apparently, they’re now starting to put flying tractors on the market too. I was thinking we could rent one to go to that country City. Sounds reasonable enough; we can fly to go there, and once arrived, even if it’s muddy, a tractor would come in handy.”

      #1273
      Jib
      Participant

        Hey Al!
        Al was surprised at the sudden surge of energy triggered by his friend Sam trying to establish contact. Apparently he was excited and he was sending his energy stronger than usual.

        Al opened himself to the communication and welcomed his friend. Imagining himself in this neutral room in another layer of their shared reality like some kind of meeting place.

        Have a seat :)
        Thanks Al, I won’t stay long but I wanted to invite you, Tina and Becky to a party that I organize in The City. I already tried to contact them, but Tina doesn’t respond much lately and I thought that you could ask her to come along. Becky was busy but answered that she would come and that only had to give you the details as she would have forgotten them anyway.

        Wow, wow, why don’t you just relax! I never saw you like that before…
        Well, I have something to celebrate, I’ll tell you more when you’re here.

        Sam vanished leaving a puzzled Al in the not so physical room.

        #1272
        Jib
        Participant

          His species was dying.
          He knew there were a possibility to save his people in mixing their encoding patterns with that of the Turmaki.

          But what was their intent as a species? The Ancient Gates were gone, only a few of them had remained after the shift of the Phreal. Tor Amok had chosen to stay along with some friends. The temptation to follow the others had been great, but something was still holding him in the old ways.

          He had to talk with their officials and offer them to share their paths.

          #1271
          Jib
          Participant

            Many people were gathered at the Soft Pool in the Garden of The Orientations.
            Some of them were sitting here still and smiling, their eyes closed and open to the different energies surrounding them. Some of them were standing others walking around and a few ones were running following seemingly random patterns. Their movements were the perfect match of the energy connections between each participant, physical and non physical.

            It was like a shining crystal, some rays of light/attention creating an instant connection and an instant energy exchange which need not be continuously maintained, many different connections were being created and were lasting as long as necessary, sometimes a few seconds, sometimes a few minutes, and others mere moments.

            His interactions fulfilled, Sam gathered his attention toward his new goal and he left the crowd at its game, the energy of the experience still present inside his energy field.

            #1267

            Yann got the phone call. It was a bit early where they were now living with Yurick, so he inferred that the call was probably coming from France. Looking at the caller ID, the familiar +33 index made him smile; it was indeed from France.

            “Coucou!”

            The clear young voice was unmistakable.

            Hey, Chiara, comment ça va?

            His niece was now a young pretty damsel, and still, Yann still remembered her fondly as the little baby who was dancing with great amusement at the sound of any music.
            It has been long they had talked, and they chatted for awhile.

            “Uncle Yann, can I ask you something?”
            “Sure sweetie, what do you want to know?”
            “I found stuff you wrote some time ago, about Alienor, and dragons, and these stories are fascinating… I want to know more about it; tell me…”

            #1262
            Jib
            Participant

              Following Dory’s example, Yann had subscribe to the daily Universe’s messages. The first time she’d showed him the messages it appeared to be very fun and encouraging, but since he had subscribed, the messages he was receiving were very odd and more like what a spoiled child could tell you.
              Yann had been fed up all day long by the last message in which the Universe had apparently told him that He, The Universe was all knowing and had everything but He won’t give a bit to Yann because!

              Wow! That was a bit rude of Him, Yann thought… better not send anything… maybe he can tell Him next time to go fuck Himself.

              All day long the irritation triggered by that simple note was gathering other tensions… it was like each time he was receiving a phone call, the caller’s energy would be scattered and distracting… and most irritating. Yann was feeling like other people had so many expectations for him and he couldn’t order his ideas or find a distraction.

              All of the imagery would reflect him the same thing, unexpected answers from the Universe.

              “Don’t wait for something particular, because each time it will present itself in a different way.”

              At the end of the day, Yann was puzzled and annoyed… and the text messages he had been receiving on his mobile phone started again.

              Apparently a girl was waiting for some call or message from a guy called “Did”, and she was persuaded that Yann’s number was that guy’s number. At first, Yann wouldn’t answer any of the messages and play the role of /dev/null/ endpoint of the Universe… After each message though, his irritation was growing accordingly…

              He sent a message signed by The Universe and told the girl he was not who she thought he was and that she could as well try another random number to find her “Did”. But well, engrossed as she was in her passion, she answered him by a question : Who was he and why would he use “Did”‘s phone?

              Hopefully Yurick was present… Yann as a good soft would have matched the energy of the Bitch but instead he sent he a last message, wishing her good luck in her quest. No need to add to her distress or the polarization in sending her a message like : Apparently your guy didn’t want to see you again if he’d given you this number…

              Well, the “truth” still hadn’t made its way to her intellect though, she had sent him another message telling him she’d knew it from the beginning, that Yann was Did’s girlfriend and that she/he was trying to keep him/Did for her/him.

              That’s when had some kind of striking revelation… The Universe was called Pedro!
              And when he told that to Yurick, he chuckled and told Yann that the Universe was called Michael…
              “They’re all angels lately, so it’s the name of an angel…”

              Why not?

              #1261

              “Hey Leo, I had a blinding revelation last night, after Barb left.”

              “Well, do tell, Bea, I’m all ears” said Leonora with an encouraging smile, pouring herself a cup of tea.

              “Well the moment was far clearer than I can explain it but it went something like this” Bea continued. “Bearing in mind that the FOCUS DIRECTS so the question of ‘directing’ essence is another choice of puzzle piece of the individual puzzle game at any moment…”

              “Ye-es” replied Leonora, making an effort to concentrate.

              “To connect to an individual focus is but a baby step towards being able to comprehend the interconnectedness of everything that you create, and that it is all in fact you.” Bea went on, adding “Like a beginner stage as it were, to keep it manageable.”

              “Keeping it manageable sounds like a good idea” interjected Leo, pointedly glancing around at the disorder in the kitchen.

              Unperturbed, Bea continued “You draw to yourself parts or, if you like, focus points or other focuses of All That Is —of the whole that are at that moment useful.”

              “Sounds reasonable, Bea, do continue. Pass the gingerbread men, would you?”

              “All of the characters in the stories I write, for example, are my focuses in a manner of speaking, as are all the characters in anything I bring into my world my focuses if I choose to SEE THEM FOR A MOMENT FROM THEIR FOCUS VIEWPOINT.”

              “Ok, ok, no need to shout!”

              “I’m not shouting, Leo, let me finish and stop interrupting! Adding another focus is an analogy in a way for adding another focus or point of view to mine.
              Dividing the actions of adding focus viewpoints into sections is useful in order to comprehend the scope of possible actions, but only initially, and as more actions are experienced objectively, the sections and labels become limiting and confining.” Bea paused for a sip of coffee and a long draw on her cigarette. “But they do keep it manageable to some degree, it must be said” she added.

              “Yes, keep it manageable, by all means, couldn’t agree more”

              “Everyone’s puzzle game is their own,” Bea was on a roll. “And the same puzzle piece, or other focus in this case, for one, would fit equally well into a completely different puzzle game of someone else’s because all of the surrounding puzzle pieces of each individuals puzzle game are created in each moment and are chosen for their relevance to that moment.”

              “Good point, dear.”

              “Likewise an individuals puzzle game is a new one in each moment and the puzzle pieces are interchangeable within the same puzzle game, depending on their relevance to the moment and the chosen surrounding puzzle pieces.”

              As usual with blazing flashes of illumination, Bea found that they were hard to form into words, and when she did manage to get them into words, they look so screamingly obvious.

              “Does that make sense to you, Leo?” she asked.

              “Er, I think so Bea, I’m getting the gist…”

              Interrupting, Bea continued to describe her revelations to her now glassy eyed friend. “And on the subject of trusting, doubting, confusion and so on”

              “Oh, yes, confusion…”

              “We are here shiftING, not shiftED, this is what we are choosing.
              With the variety of viewpoints we have, the shifted and the unshifted and the semi-shifted, there is always something new to notice from yet another new perspective. Why not get really enthusiastic about the ride itself instead of planning how to float through it with the least fuss ~ it’s more fun on the helter skelter with its many perspectives and view points than on the mill pond for those of us who choose shiftING.”

              “I dunno, Bea, from my perspective floating on a millpond sounds rather pleasant.”

              “Well, at least now we know that what we don’t know is there to know.”

              “Yes, there’s no doubt about that!” relied Leonora, “Have you finished? That was all very interesting but don’t forget we invited everyone over for the Yule Boulder Moving party. We should get a move on with the preparations you know”

              :yahoo_coffee:

              #1259

              Australia, Uluru, Dec. 2035

              Sam wasn’t very fond of the Ooh dimension adventures; he didn’t yet have inserted a focus (or foocoos) here for that matter. And he was too engrossed in the City creation planning to design a few parks there anyway.

              He just had his first night under the stars, on the freshly built wooden floor on top of a jujubaobab tree in the middle of the park where he could see the patterns he wanted to insert on the gardens. It looked a bit like the French gardens in the Versailles gardens most of his focuses liked so much in the past. He was aware of Yann, his shifting focus, who was precisely visiting the gardens at that same simultaneous time, with friends and family.
              He laughed when he projected to him, and overheard a discussion where Yurick was pointing to a typo he made about the Jeff Kuuntz expo that was there. Decidedly, Yann had the same dislike of the Ooh dimension, preferring the Uuh’s.

              When he started to go to sleep, the feelings started to blur in a strange mixture of imageries…

              :fleuron2:

              Jeff had strange dreams that night. He was singing Tumuuld to a certain Elizabeth who was speaking all funny, and playing djudjuriduu on the treetops, surrunded by inflated magunta colured balluuns…
              Sometimes it tuuk his breathe away how life was strunge, but cuul.

              #1927
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                On the subject of other focuses I had a blinding revelation in the
                kitchen last night. As usual with my blazing flashes of illumination,
                they are hard to form into words, and when I do try to get them into
                words, they look so screamingly obvious, like D’uh, you mean you
                didn’t realize that yet? LOL

                Anyway, the moment was far clearer than the following words, but I
                managed to get a few words out in chats to Eric and to Dawn which I
                snipped together:

                (bearing in mind that the focus directs so the question
                of ‘directing’ essence is another choice of puzzle peice of the
                individual puzzle game at any moment)

                To connect to an individual focus is but a baby step towards being
                able to comprehend the interconnectedness of everything that you
                create and that it is all in fact you. (beginner stage as it were,
                keep it manageable)

                You draw to yourself parts (focus points/other focuses of All that
                is) of the whole that are at that moment useful.

                All of the characters in the story I write, for example, are my
                focuses in a manner of speaking, as are all the characters in
                anything I bring into my world my focuses if I choose to _see for a
                moment from their focus view point_. Adding another focus is an
                analogy in a way for adding another focus or point of view to mine.
                Dividing the actions of adding focus viewpoints into sections is
                useful in order to comprehend the scope of possible actions, but only
                initially, and as more actions are experienced objectively, the
                sections and labels become limiting and confining. (but they do keep
                it manageable to some degree)

                Everyones puzzle game is their own, and the same puzzle piece (or
                other focus) for one, would fit equally well into a completely
                different puzzle game of someone elses because all of the surrounding
                puzzle peices of each individuals puzzle game are created in each
                moment and are chosen for their relevance to that moment. Likewise an
                individuals puzzle game is a new one in each moment and the puzzle
                peices are interchangable within the same puzzle game, depending on
                their relevance to the moment and the chosen surrounding puzzle
                peices.

                And on the subject of trusting, doubting, confusion etc:

                We are here shiftING, not shiftED, this is what we are choosing.
                With the variety of viewpoints we have, the shifted and the unshifted
                and the semi shifted, there is always something new to notice from
                yet another new perspective. Why not get really enthusisatic about
                the ride itself instead of planning how to float through it with the
                least fuss ~ it’s more fun on the helter skelter with it’s many
                perspectives and view points than on the mill pond for those of us
                who choose shiftING.

                At least now we know that what we dont know is there to know.

                #1258

                “Well, what a coincidence!” exclaimed Bea, as her freind Baked Bean Barb described the book she had just started reading. It was all about ancient inscriptions in Antartica, which was what Bea had been reading about online just before Barb arrived.

                “Some of it’s fact” Barb was saying “But the rest of it’s made up; interesting though!”

                “Oh, I can’t wait til they find remains of the civilization under the ice there!” Bea said, to which Barb replied “There’s no civilization there. Nope. There’s nothing ever been found, nothing at all scientifically proven about that. The book’s fiction.”

                “Well, they haven’t found it yet, Barb ~ if the scientists had proof, it would be found already. Until things are found they don’t exist?”

                “There’s nothing there, there’s no proof!” Barb said firmly, shaking her head.

                “What about all the new things we keep finding out about, before we knew about them, they didn’t exist, is that what you mean?” Bea persisted, trying to get her point accross. Then she wondered why she was trying to get her point accross in the first place. She knew what her point was.

                Well, at least I think I do, she said to herself.

                “Fancy a cuppa, Barb? Leo bought some nice nettle teabags, how’s that sound?”

                “Ooh yes please! Got anymore of those gingerbread men?”

                Sometimes the actual point wasn’t at all the same thing as the point you thought you were making. Bea gave herself points for noticing this, although she wasn’t at all sure what the point of the whole thing was, objectively anyway. Distraction tactics always worked, but once summoned, the distractions were indiscriminate and chaotic. On the way to the kitchen to put the kettle on, Bea glanced out of the window and noticed a shaft of light illuminating the rocks and casting deep shadows into the crevices, the resulting effect looking for all the world like mysterious ancient inscriptions. She reached out for her camera, which was always conveniently handy, as she strode out of the door, single minded in pursuit of the capture of a moment of light as if drawn by a magnet, or reeled in like a fish.

                Barb eventually found her, some 57 minutes later, pruning the oleander down by the stream.

                #1330

                In reply to: Pictures Pool

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  A rendition of Eschraiel, Jib/Yann/Sam H. Ryell’s focus in the future who was introduced in that comment bodyflumping with Khris.

                  His focus animal is the nine-tailed fox, which appears sometimes in the story in bleedthroughs to his other focuses…

                  #1255
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “We need something new, Felicity, something completely different.” Annabel Ingman had invited Felicity Albright, the star of DDT, into her office. “We’ve got 56 channelers on our books now, and they are all saying the same thing! It’s ridiculous!”

                    “Well I just say what pops into my head, Annabel, that is my job description…” Felicity was feeling defensive.

                    “What I’m saying, dear” replied Annabel, “Is that we don’t need another 55 all saying the same thing as you. If you are all saying the same thing, then where is the drama? Where is the conflict? For heavens sake, girl, where are the sales?”

                    “Well I tell you what Annabel, I’m going to the F.U.N. picnic in the Elsespace Arrangement later, I’ll ask around, ok?”

                    #1254

                    The F.U.N. picnic was rather conveniently located within the Elsespace Arrangement , which in practical terms meant that individuals from any time or space could meet within the parameters of Elsespace without having to worry about continuity or time lines. Elsespace arrangements were located anywhere and everywhere, so to speak ~ being hard, by definition, to define. The Elsespace was gaining in popularity, which was hardly surprising. If anything was surprising, it was that it hadn’t caught on sooner. The result of the surge in favour was that almost all social events were now* held in The Elsespace Arrangement.

                    *Note: Any now

                    #1251

                    Siobahn had a few more cages to rattle before she she made her way to the meeting. The Freakus management had invited a spokesman from the S.E.C.R.E.T. department (otherwise known as Special Exploration Corps of Really Entertaining Trivia) to give a speech on the art of C.R.A.P.S. (also known as the Coordinated Redistribution of Ambiguously Protected Secrets). All staff were expected to attend the meeting, which unfortunately meant that Siobhan had to refuse an invitation to the F.U.N. picnic (otherwise known as Foundation of Unimportant Nonsense to Those In The Show, which, dear reader, you will recall are also known as T.I.T.S.)

                    Siobhan rattled the last few cages on her list, and made her way back to her caravan. She had an hour to relax before the meeting so she turned the portable channelvision on and settled herself comfortably on the sofa to surf through the channels. The first channel she landed on was twitching and shouting, ‘The present is not a result of the past, orlright? Orlright, orlright’; the next channel was chuckling and saying with a sly grin, ‘…that would be your choice…”. Flicking through a few more channels, hearing the words ascended higher density love and light and light and love and all is one stuff, Siobahn kept surfing. Sheesh, they are all just saying the same thing, over and over again, she thought to herself, same old same old, blah blah blah… what she wouldn’t have given for some new channel to say something completely different.

                    Pfft. Siobahn turned off the channelvision and stood up. She made up her mind in the moment to go to the F.U.N. picnic anyway, and bugger the meeting. Maybe she would even start channeling something completely different, just for some bloody variety. Cage Rattling was in her blood, after all, she was a born Cage Rattler and it seemed to her that the whole channelvision empire was getting altogether too samey.

                    #1249

                    Siobhan was settling into her new job at the Freakus, fitting like a duck to water into her position as Head Cage Rattler. It wasn’t an easy job to do which was why the rewards were so high; it certainly wasn’t everyones cup of tea, and good Cage Rattlers were hard to find. Oh, there were plenty of Cage Rattlers, true, but not good ones. A good Cage Rattler had to have a certain “je ne say kwah”, an impermeability, much like the oily feathers of a duck, enabling the Cage Rattler to glide easily through troubled waters without sinking ~ without even getting wet, if they were very skilled.

                    The success of the Freakus show depended on new ideas and inspirations. The audience, as well as the participants of course, wanted something new, something challenging, something inspiring, something ‘out of the box’ for each show, not the same old boring routines. There was nothing entertaining about the same old tricks rehashed over and over again, even if they were well known and easy to perform. True, there were many of the general public who preferred the familiar acts, but they generally weren’t fans of the innovative and forward thinking Freakus show. Freakus was new, exciting, thought provoking and entrancingly different, hence the importance of the Cage Rattlers.

                    When the performers and cast members of Freakus got too complacent or too boring, it was Siobhan’s job to disturb them, to rattle their cages, yes, to upset them. Clearly it was undeniably important that Siobhan not take their retaliations personally; after all, she was just doing her job. She was shaking things up purposefully for the overall benefit of the show, it was a simple as that. It wasn’t her job to direct or lead those in the rattled cages, simply to disturb them from their boring old routines. Freakus, after all, wasn’t about the old and boring, it was about the new and exciting, and it was up to the individual performers to come up with a new act.

                    #1247

                    Finally, sailing on the Orgasmic Sea had not been as difficult as Akita would have thought .

                    Occasionally, while they were sleeping on the deck under the starry sky, he could hear a few “Ahs” and “Ohs” (something even some “Oooh” as far as he recalled) coming from the three ladies, but perhaps that was only the effects of their feeling again their skin against the sheets, since all their hair had almost now gone.

                    He was wondering if that was a special disposition of the Brits and people coming from the cold areas, that kind of bestial growing of hair, and shedding in spring… Could well be, as his Asian ancestors never had been accustomed to growing much hair themselves, he couldn’t tell for sure.

                    Perhaps they were dreaming too… As soon as they had found out about this strange piece of tile, their imagination seemed to have taken to new heights. They were speaking of Spreal, an ancient civilization buried for 570,000 years under the ices, near the Onyx river and had almost manifested the strong desire to come back to investigate.

                    Hopefully Kay had given him the perfect excuse to not comply with the sometimes erratic demands of the three Graces: the iceberg was slowly melting in the giant structure of plastic containing the freshwater from the berg, and the heat exchange was also giving the propellant for the trip. They probably wouldn’t be able to get away so easily if they backed-off now.
                    Hopefully their shedding had finished to convince them. Any vague desire left to go to the frozen place was long gone with the comfortable hairy insulation.

                    Akita had thought for a moment of going back to his homeland, in Arkansas. But now that probably most of his family was dead, or thinking him dead, there wouldn’t be much point in doing that. Instead, he’d decided to trust living in the present. Not worrying about that elusive past from another life, and only focus on what route was open to him now.
                    Sharon, Gloria and Mavis were apparently not in a hurry to come back home either, and now that Kay was more and more easily accessible for him, he didn’t feel alone at all. So all was well.

                    #1246

                    The two roses of Jericho had almost completely dried up, furled again into a tight ball exhaling a slightly pungent odor.

                    Yurick was impressed by the genius of this plant, which could die and “resurrect” countless times, while spending most of its time in this dried up state, only waiting for some water to revive it.

                    Perhaps essence was a Rose of Jericho too; he meant his wider self, he could feel it springing from the moisture of new prospects and challenges, then slowly crawling back to a state of balance. These last past days were a sort of clearing of the rest of the waters of the year. Things were looking a bit shriveled on the outside, but you could feel life and impetus was there, if only dormant…

                    Funnily, these two didn’t have any names, unlike Sha and Glo the aerial plants, which were still kind of resting on an empty beige egg carton upon the white toilets in the bathroom, where light, moisture (and aerial nutrients) surely never failed to float around.
                    It was funny, he thought all of a sudden; looks like the little hairy plants are travelers upon a big iceberg… What a funny story this would make.

                    So, the roses didn’t have names… If they were essences of roses, what would be their focuses?

                    Well, what was imagination telling him? He could easily imagine them as sort of strange mummies who would dry up into balls of dried flesh and sinews and being revived sometimes during the flood seasons. Actually with the news of Venice (and next Rome) being flooded if there were some old mummies suddenly revived from old times and prolonged lyophilization, that could be a place to start. Well, they probably would have a hard time coping with all the changes and the pace of this time.
                    Alabama or Louisiana would be fun places to have some too… Funny mummies…

                  Viewing 20 results - 1,161 through 1,180 (of 1,567 total)

                  Daily Random Quote

                  • Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete. A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called ... · ID #270 (continued)
                    (next in 02h 50min…)

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