Search Results for 'mind'

Forums Search Search Results for 'mind'

Viewing 20 results - 861 through 880 (of 969 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #612

    It’d been two hexades that the Abbot Hrih Chokyam Lin’potshee had been laying in bed in poor condition.
    At first, he had wanted to be as strong as he had always been towards hardships, but he’d finally admitted that quelching the pain wasn’t doing any good to him. So he had agreed to be taken care of by a young monk, and to lay in bed as long as was necessary.
    He knew that he was very likely not to get out of that bed but with his body covered by a white sheet, nevertheless, the thought was still something distant. The pain in his body was making him so present to himself that the only thing that was still blatant was that he was.
    More than the body, it was all his faith that was shaken. He had thought he would leave this life without mess, without pain, probably very discreetly in his sleep… But now, his head was wincing at every noise, even the nature’s sounds that once felt like music to his ears, he was eschewing them now as much as he could. His very skin was hot and couldn’t bear even the soft contact of the bedsheets.
    What was the point of all of this? He had never doubted that everything had its purpose, but now, he was doubting…
    He was even trying to find some reasonable reasons for what was happening, he who never trusted in reasonable reasons in the first place. Perhaps that was because of his seating under the chilly air and the warm sun in front of the Meditation Wall, reading for all of the poems that had been written by the monks who had dared to write. Perhaps he had “taken cold”, whatever that means…
    “Perhaps not” the voice kept saying softly in his head.

    Now, his whole succession was feeling like a moot point. After all, he was not even capable of saving himself from anything, then how could what he created make the slightest difference? These were all like an extension of his body, bound to decay and come back to Earths.

    Not so many monks had dared write upon the Wall about their highest truth. A few jokesters had begun at first, helping the others to participate.
    One in particular had had Hrih laugh for quite a while.

    A toad is a toad
    Unless kissed
    Endless Bliss

    Then a dozen of others had flourished upon the wall, until Aum Geong decided to write his own. He’d not wanted to go first, to allow the others to express without the burden of comparison, and also to have some more time to write something deep and thoughtful. But that profusion of nonsense between some occasional pearls of wisdom made him write his own.

    Unattainable is the Truth
    For in the Dust of things
    All in our View is bleak

    Doing Wrong we forswear
    For Dust to be lifted
    And Wisdom we seek

    In the deed of the Elders
    And the Faith in the Community
    Light and Trust bespeak

    All the monks had been quite impressed, but Hrih had not been entirely satisfied by it… To be honest, he even completely disagreed with it.
    Now, however, stuck in this bed, the poem was playing in his head and suggesting that the Worlds were something terrible that he had not yet understood, or be willing to avoid seeing. Perhaps Aum Geong was wiser than he was.
    Perhaps all that Hrih had put as foundational to his life had all been Dust…
    “There is no Dust, and you know that” the voice whispered softly.

    Now that he is about to die, what difference will it make anyway…
    He reach out for a bowl of water, and almost let it fall, as the weight of it surprised him. He was becoming so weak… He never had been so self-conscious in many many many years.

    After he had propped himself up to drink a few burning swallows of the lukewarm water, he noticed something folded on his bedside, that had been put under the bowl… Young Franiel had been the one attending him with Jog Lam, so it must have been the doing of one of them. He intuited that was Franiel.

    As he read the stanzas, tears were in his eyes…

    I am the driftwood
    the wave carried me
    I was buried in sand

    I am the flower
    the butterfly touched me
    I fell in love

    I am the raindrop
    the cloud released me
    I became the ocean

    The Young monk had probably not dared write it on the Wall, especially after most of the monks’ vocal appreciations of Aum Geong’s poem…
    “Perhaps not” the voice again spoke.
    Another reason for it formed into Hrih’s mind. Franiel perhaps didn’t feel ready for such responsibilities and his role and fulfillment in this community was not form rules nor to continue it.
    It was more to inspire them, and perhaps to start his own discoveries.

    Hrih wrote a note behind the paper. He wanted to leave something for Franiel, for him to keep faith in his coming adventures during these coming times of change.
    After a deep breath, he took another paper that was with him for already such a long time, wrote down some words, and signed it, the aura of his hand burning a glyph that was his signature in the paper. He then called for Jog Lam.

    — Jog Lam, my friend…
    — Elder?
    — I’m dying…
    — I know Elder
    — Let me continue. (Jog Lam nodded)
    First, will you give that paper to Young Franiel after the cremation ceremonies. (Jog Lam nodded again)
    Second, I want you to relay that I have made my decision, and that Aum Geog will succeed me (Jog Lam’s surprise was noticeable in his eye). He is, to date, the most adequate successor for this monastery.
    — I will do as you want.
    — Thank you my friend.
    — Elder…
    — Farewell, my friend, I am always with you.

    When Jog Lam stoically left the room, Hrih Chokyam laid down, his eyes on the ceiling. His body was so weak that all he could do was to project behind his closed eyelids and see the starry sky, even if he would have wanted something different for his death. He would have loved something like a nap in a sunlit meadow with a little singing brook.
    But seeing the actual World was something even more precious to him. The barren mountains of the icy season, the clear unclouded sky. His mind was so full of energy that his body lacked.

    With a deep feeling of gratitude for his body, he bid it farewell.

    #610

    All he remembered was the name “Akita”… He was not sure that it was his name, perhaps it was not, but he had taken it as his own.
    He’d been stranded on that island for so long he barely remembered whether he’d had a past before. In the beginning, he had taken an inventory of the passing time, but soon had discovered that days were irregularly long, and nights would sometimes last for more than one day, so that it was all pointless…
    The toughest part had been to live in good intelligence —he couldn’t really say harmony— with the predatory hairy nest of the daughters of Narani. But at least he’d made clear that he was able to defend himself and retaliate if needed…

    — Thanks to me, grunted a big dog half-focused, his head on his lap.
    — Yeah, mostly thanks to you, Kay

    Kay had appeared a few days after Akita discovered himself on that strange land. He was no common dog… In fact, Akita was wondering that it may only exist in his mind. Kay had been approaching him, more than he had tamed it, and soon Akita found out that he was no dog at all.
    He was, as Kay had said, an inugami or dog spirit, able to shape-shift, and willing to bond with Akita. He’s said Akita his previous owner had died, and that he would have to die with him unless being adopted by another…
    Akita had been reluctant at first, finding that there was something unclear, but he had agreed anyway… Better be with a faithful and powerful dog-spirit than die in the webs of the giant spiders…
    All he had to do was to name it. And so he named it Kay.
    Kay couldn’t be seen by most of the creatures in the forest, though the most sensitive could feel his presence. However, he could decide to take a more corporeal form, but that exhausted both Akira and Kay, and was rarely done. So most of the times, he was roaming the island in spirit form, which didn’t mean that he was powerless, far from it.

    — I can sense something’s coming, growled Kay who took the shape of a big two-legged werewolf…

    #1991

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Arona perfect focus mind
      growing process, gone self within.
      Dragon seen truth
      apparently far understood magic body
      Finn beautiful, morning asked space, eyes, world seemed inside
      air feel energies close
      link familiar?
      forgotten already years mean face
      Twilight singing, soon change flowing
      Perhaps girl read star
      turned to sleep, ask energy dreams

      #604
      Jib
      Participant

        Yann stroke Arona, lost in his thoughts. He’d spent the last few days with Yurick at Gustav’s place. He’d met Gustav a few days ago, when Yurick came to Paris with him. Gustav was a very sympathetic and fun fellow, his energy felt very soft to Yann and quite sensitive though he could appear a bit rough to others. Gustav was kind enough to let Yann sleep one night at his house when he was still there, before his holidays with his parents before Christmas and friends after Christmas. It was the occasion to eventually be with Yurick.

        The life together was a bit different from what he would have normally expected… before. Now it was just a new experience, the interaction was different, and the configuration of energy could be a bit tricky.

        Yann had noticed that in his perception even if an aspect of his attention was focused on the physical place and that he was physically seeing other individuals and objects in the official room, his main attention was elsewhere… he was beginning to be able to let more of this periphery to bleedthrough in his official reality, and he was well aware that the interactions weren’t always what they appeared to be. He first had the reflex to filter it through his usual associations and what he knew of this reality… but often enough he had that twinge about it like it wasn’t really fitting… it wasn’t fitting at all, he was trying to mold it into another shape, a familiar and distorted shape, so to speak. Ok, that was acceptable, and most of the time his attention and his movement was toward Yurick’s energy.

        Yurick was creating some weird stuffs in with his mouth… some itching and uncomfortable pain… it was a bit weird because of the familiar associations with it… associations with pain, illness, preoccupations, caring, even self worth… but most of all it was showing Yann about the automatic movement “outside” of self, and not being present in what himself was doing.

        Yann had noticed that most of the time when he was in what he was doing there was that warm expansion feeling in his belly… but still there was that location association with it… and the association that Yurick was outside and the room was outside and then at times it was fading and there was not much separation within energy.

        And he just noticed that no separation didn’t necessarily mean continuity :-?

        Ok, again this Owl music of the Harry Potter series… the “scum of the universe” connection was a bit hidden by this music now, but it was still in his periphery. And something he wanted to explore. A feeling of space travel and of mercenaries… that reminded him of the video games he was playing when he was a kid. There was always a time when he was fascinated by the “bad guys”, the pirates. Haha, maybe a pie rat would do as a dessert.

        He would soon come back “home”. He had that DVD of the pilots of a series about space travels that he liked a lot… Yurick had told him about it 2 days ago, he had never seen it.

        #594
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Georges and Salome’s journal

          From Salome’s account of her journey to the Murtuane

          There is a purple beach that I have seen briefly in my third eye, with a stranded people of the Murtuane. It seems like a possible focus of Georges, named… “Jarvis” I would translate.
          Georges having moved to the mountainous and icy lands of the Duane, I thought it would be entertaining to discover more about this focus before telling him about it. Though it was not what I initially in mind as per an exploration, it surely has its purpose.
          This island has in fact the size of a continent, but being in an isolated part of the Murtuane, few are those knowing of it. It fosters some interesting creatures not found in other places of the Murtuane. Jarvis is not yet aware, but he is observed by some of them. Zentauras (these black-and-white striped centaur-like creatures) are guardians of this Island, and thus do not see the arrival of one of Jarvis’ kind as a particularly good omen. What puzzle them is that he has been rescued by one of the Daughters of the Sea.

          When I connect with Jarvis, he tells that he knows this land as “Kandulim”, a fabled island from which people could easily go into another world and bring back whatever is most precious to you. It always had been a legend for him until he had opened his eyes and seen the purple beach.

          #587
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Georges and Salome’s journal

            From Salome’s account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

            I had more insights about the Murtuane and its biosphere. The race of green-skinned people seem to foster some deeply religious feelings. Not religious as in our age old beliefs on Earth, nothing of that sort. It’s more “religious” in the sense of caring for life, and the sacredness of it.
            It seems they are so attuned to their feelings that they can feel in each other’s waves of moods, so that it becomes very difficult for them to entertain such violence that we have been enacting for so long on Earth.
            It is like they form some kind of invisible bond, and can feel each other through the belonging of some kind of unseen social memory complex. I think they call each others Children of Turmak, or somewhat close.

            There are other forms of lives present here, many underwater, and I can feel some ties between the Nirguals (those huge eagle-like winged beings) and what we, on Earth, remember as “dragons”. It is as though they are different forms of the same energetic blueprints, or species… In evolutionary terms, it would be tantamount to say that they share a common ancestor, but I know it is none of that either.
            The Nirguals (let us call them like that for the time being) are indigenous to this planetoid of Murtuane, but they somewhat seem to have seeded some of them on the Duane, the dual or sister planet — though this is my loose interpretation… But even though it reminds me of a cuckoo being forgetful of its eggs in another nest, this strikes me as an evidence of some kind of awareness of each other, by each of the planets sentients. And also of an evidence of a kind of travel route between the two, though discontinuous if not vagarious, and probably uni-directional as per now, as nothing tends to corroborate a continuous interaction.

            #584

            Malika jotted down some notes on the chat window, depicting the images as they whizzed into her mind like the pages of a multicoloured flip-book

            “As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
            They held in their hands objects that projected sounds…

            :fleuron:

            As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
            They held in their hands objects that projected sounds, and their echoes in the waters were projecting harmonious symphonies that were carried miles across the waters.

            How odd that the sounds where so similar to the ones she had always known. But they were different, rasher, suffused of a violent nature which was so alien to the world she was coming from. It all was perplexing, and almost deafening to her. Her eyes getting slowly accustomed to the light could not yet perceive that there was no longer the life she’d felt on the strange floating body, but she knew it assuredly even without seeing it.

            She plunged back into the waters, to reattain the gliding peace and softness that she had been missing so much already, even though she had been out of it for barely a few moments.

            Where was the life she had felt… Gone in the strange world of the surface? She knew so little of that world, that she imagined that all their creatures could swim as easily in the airs as she could do in the waters. Was there a bottom to their environment?
            All of these questions were erupting and expanding in her mind, when a sudden feeling got her forthwith.

            She could feel him. Sinking slowly… and she could feel his pain inside, something else that was alien to her… He was so fascinating…
            She swam fleetly to where he was.
            She turned in small rounds around him, following closely his descent, not daring to touch him.
            So alien, yet so beautiful.

            She could communicate with him, as he was in something close to a deep slumber, and allowing for that exchange to happen. It was a breach of the rules, she knew.
            She had been told not to interfere with things from the surface, yet she was interfering already, and she’d always been doing it in a sense… At what point did that breach leapt from her imagination to reality? She couldn’t say…

            The light was casting a yellow radiance in the blue waters. A feeling of warmth and comfort surrounding them.
            He was telling her he was dying, yet he was comfortable. Time meant nothing…
            She conveyed to him that she could help him, bring him back to his floating station, where he could spring back into his world… She wanted to share so many things with him…

            #581

            Aglaë had been reluctantly coming back to the games of her sisters, when Thalÿs, the eldest had come back from her trip.
            She’d had trouble with one of her dolphins who had fallen ill, and had been seeking advice from one of the healers in another distant underwater city.

            Eufrosÿn, her other sister was listening to her account, and was amazed at the similarities between her sister’s depiction and her own recent dream imageries. But Aglaë, who was usually very fond of such bizarre coincidences, barely did more than a few silent nods.

            Her mind was halfway here, and halfway there, with the mysterious life she had felt on the surface…
            She wanted to come back, and a sudden impulse made her leave her sisters without an explanation and rush to her spot of observation.

            #575
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Georges and Salome’s journal

              From Salome’s account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

              The Jorid has spotted what will be the destination for our first joined adventure.
              It’s a dimension which seems unexplored yet, and rather fascinating. Georges, as he is, would already have jumped right in, but I preferred to get a little more background information before moving into it. It’s still a little awkward to move into these realms where the laws of physics as we’ve known them are different, sometimes dramatically so. These would not be too much of a difficulty as the adaptation of the physical body usually goes quite fast, as Georges has shown me when we trained in more familiar dimensions, but the most delicate part is when we barely know the relationships at play.
              Georges will laugh because he’s more confident that everything is perfect, but somehow, I tend to believe that things can be a little more perfect when we know how to avoid making faux-pas.
              So we’ve spent a few days gathering some basic informations on this dimension we call Alienor. The most part of the activity seems to revolve around a cluster of planetoids. At this moment, it’s forming a system of three planets revolving on the same orbit around their sun. We call them Duane, Murtuane, and Phrëal.
              They seem to form a complex web of relationships, and cover such a wide range of aspects that we have decided on a mutual agreement to split our exploration to cover more ground for a beginning.
              Georges is exploring the Duane, and I took the Murtuane, both planetoids seeming to come from the same core of matter, in a manner of speaking. The feeling around the Phrëal is more ambivalent, as though it is undergoing some deep change, not unlike to the Shift that will be (or has been) occurring on our Earth. So, we’ve decided not to interfere with it right now. It may take a dozen of years (as we understand them) for them to undergo that process, but it’s not like we care of time issues in any case.

              Here are my first observations concerning the Murtuane. Obviously, it ties into the Duane, but I am not completely aware of all of these ties yet.
              The first connection I had to the Murtuane was with some ancient beings living here. I saw myself riding one of these sentient beings, gliding through the sky in a mountainous land. The colours are vivid, even if the atmosphere seems very light, and filtering the sun’s ray in a spectrum slightly more indigo than our sky on Earth. These beings, whose name I can’t yet translate accurately (it’s something close to Nirgual) are powerful winged focuses of essence, though I suspect this to be a mere convenient form that they use. They somewhat remind me of the Rokhs (or Rocs) that the sultan’s wifes were telling us about in their legends. Apparently, they are respected, perhaps feared by the people inhabiting the lands, though I can feel they are for the most part benevolent.
              These people, those that I could spot, seem to have a slightly green skin, but overall humanoid form (within my translation of them).

              I will probably have more to connections once we gather our impressions with Georges.

              #572

              The meowing of the angora Zhulie had woken up Yurick.
              The past few nights, he had not heard her at all, but tonight, she seemed to request specifically his presence.
              Last evening during the dinner, it had cracked him up because the cat was acting funny when it had smelled the cooked bamboo shoots of the sautéed vegetables he had for dinner. Perhaps a recognition of the Pekingese that he had once seen her to be, in shared focus in Imperial China.

              Well, obviously Zhulie was no ordinary feline. Her character reminded Yurick of a blend of himself, Yann, Finn and his own mother. So that each time he was playing with her, he instantly had them in mind, in various orders of appearance, or strengths.

              In any case, when he came back to his bed, Yurick was annoyed at first, to have been drawn out of his comfortable dreams, but he managed somewhat to get back to a state of relaxation, in between dreams and reality —which was obviously a mere way of saying things, as dreams are reality.

              Speaking of dreams, his mind was wandering around the news that his mother had told him, about a distant cousin having published a book revolving around dreams and fantasies.

              And then, within the dream, in the dream, in the dream,… an idea formed into his mind with the clarity of an evidence.
              He could see it happening… Not only one book, but… oh, he couldn’t wait to tell his friends!

              #555
              Jib
              Participant

                Sam just stroked the head of Becky.

                Joe is the brother of Twilight and Elroy… is it Elroy? Al? Yes I can read it in your mind. Your wig is just great Bekkie Pooh ;) Joe is a variation of tone of Jo or Jo is a variation of tone of Joe… depends from where you look ;))

                #1974

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  WOW… lots of interesting ones in that cloud here:

                  — Once under thinking, session clear words God/Human waiting speaking word, language beginning feeling looked. Key herself aware […]
                  — Gaughran home looking funny random energies
                  — Tracy floating, magic color seemed trip
                  — Points side mountains, process great
                  — Bugger difficult! Nice interesting moment link :bounce: creating action
                  — Trust help face aspects seems play
                  — Structures changing… Dancing green heart Finn
                  Badul getting synch princess
                  Twilight book important
                  Elikozoe stories singing magical times. Able feel sort understand images mind, read Armelle. Voice started moments sync call Maevel

                  #545

                  Arona was showing Yikesy how he could play with the sand in the sabulmantium and form it into shapes. Leormn had very kindly, as he had pointed out himself, produced another sabulmantium. In this latest model the sand was all the colours of the rainbow and Yikesy was immediately entranced.

                  Good grief, said Tina, What am I doing? It is way too early in the morning to be working on the play. Becky, how do you spell Sabulmantium? Al would know, but he is in the bathroom brushing his hair again. He is going to be prettier than me soon.

                  [Al sneaked stealthily into Tina’s comment with his sumafreak powers and surreptitiously changed the spelling to the standard spelling of sabulmantium, giggling at how he loved doing these kinds of creation pranks. Perhaps he would remind Tina later that there was a glossary somewhere in the play…]

                  #542

                  The old abbot Hrih, was coming back from the gardens of the Monastery, the soil dampened and muddied by the heavy rains of the season sticking to the sole of his sandals. Hrih Chokyam loved to be reacquainted with the rawness of nature, and the fluidity that the rain provided to the ground by transforming it into malleable mud.

                  He was bringing back vegetables for the dinner’s soup, and was amazed at the fact that even though he had felt so close to the earth, barefooted in his sandals, he had not even a drop of mud on him.

                  He had delayed his choice for much too long already, and the not so subtle pressing of his main confident Aum Geong to officially elect his successor was making him unquiet. He was deeply trustful of Aum Geog, and of his sincerity as a Holder of the clear Light that was being tapped into, channeled and refined by the Monastery’s spiritual endeavours.
                  But Hrih was feeling that Aum Geong’s views were slightly too narrow for the heavy task he was wanting him to carry on.
                  He was too good at creating structures and rules, and Hrih felt that even if all done in good intent, it would be taking the risk of chocking the great outburst of powerful energy that was lying at the very foundations of the Monastery.

                  The young man that he had noticed a few hexades1 ago, though very discreet seemed bright and very dedicated to his task. He had been greeted by all, and had soon felt at home. Franiel, as he was named, was under the tutelage of Jog Lam, a very wise (albeit young) monk that Hrih had adopted some years ago as the parents had been abandoning him a young baby at the eternally opened doors of the Monastery.

                  Hrih had made a decision. He would not play favourites. Seeing the blank black Meditation Wall, an idea crossed his mind. He would announce at the dinner that the monks willing to do it could do a short poem of 3 stanzas where they would express their highest truth on the Meditation Wall…

                  :fleuron:

                  1 On that part of the Duane (the planet where Mount Elok’ram is), time is divided in groups of six days or hexades, each being attributed to one of the Elder Gods: Ghört (Airs) Nærvel (Waters) Agnima (Flames) Selvaniel (Woods) Margilonia (Earths) and Lejüs (Forgotten). The names or the days are Ghordië, Narduë, Agduë, Seldië, Marduë, Shandië.

                  Name Element Quality Hexade
                  Ghört Airs Male Ghordië
                  Nærvel Waters Female Narduë
                  Agnima Flames Female Agduë
                  Selvaniel Woods Male Seldië
                  Margilonia Earths Female Marduë
                  (Shaint) Lejüs Forgotten Male Shandië
                  #538

                  A dragon egg was hatching. A bluish light around the shell.
                  That egg was not in a rookery, it was in the Marshes of Doom.

                  A little girl was passing by and whistling. She was eight and quite unaware of what was happening. But she was drawn to that particular spot where she could see something shining. Her excitement was enhanced by the unheard humming of the baby dragon emerging. Her heart was full of joy and happyness.

                  She had that name in her mind Asiir and that song her mother was always singing to her when she was younger. At times she would sing it to her again, lost in her memories. And it was quite endearing a song, about another world blending with their own, that world, what was the name?

                  La Phrëal said a voice in her head. She was a bit startled and stopped singing. Nothing… just the joy and the excitement. She started to walk again in the tall grass.

                  She continued with her song and began to see the edges of the egg. Wow, she stopped in awe. It was beautiful, with many shades of blue and it was pulsing. Seeing it she was even more full of joy and of love. All fear she could have had before had vanished of her heart.

                  Lola, I’m choosing you

                  Hearing these words in her head, her heart exploded of joy, it was so intense the she burst out crying and laughing at the same time. The shell had cracked open and she could see the little creature emerging, so graceful, pink with golden shades. How will she explain that to her parents? :yahoo_rose:

                  #1970

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  Jib
                  Participant

                    leormn liked became yellow

                    elikozoe mind thought saloon tried cool parents

                    #1957

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Ahaha, yes! And something funny that caught my mind while discussing with TP is that as you go on scrying and writing about your findings, you modify the cloud, as the new words are reintegrated into it.

                      A bit like self-fulfilling prophecies. Or the more you focus on things, the more you make them prominent…
                      Interesting stuff…

                      #1955

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        mother perfect create, let mind self care, real beginning inside, focused, great, easily …

                        nice trip! getting story, already morning tell night making, finn managed against loved ago family focuses.

                        eyes far, surprise yourself! connected, crying, quiet.

                        dear Armelle, whatever experience smiled, gift noticed.

                        #475

                        It had been real hard since Momma and Poppa weren’t around no more. Twilight was four when they got shot dead, and she could hardly remember their faces now. Sometimes she had memories come to mind, this real pretty woman, brushing her hair at night. One hundred strokes, she would say, make your hair real pretty. It made her feel sad because she wished it were true.

                        Her brother Jo, he was only ten when they got killed. He was the one found them. They’d been shot. Jo, he took it real hard. Sometimes he’d get this far away and sad look and Twilight knew he was remembering. She wanted to hug him, but he’d be all shut off.

                        Anyways it was real hard to keep the ranch going after that. Her brother Elroy, he was the oldest. He was fifteen when Momma and Poppa died. So he took on being the man of the house. Sometimes he would try and boss Jo and her round, and Twilight would give him a real hard time. She was just jesting though, she knew he was just doing his best to keep the El Disperso Ranch running and she was real proud of him.

                        It was real hard though. Winter had been hard. They all were fearing they might have to sell the blue bull just to keep the wolves from the door next winter. Elroy, he was right pig headed though about that bull. Jo would say to Elroy “we have to sell that bull, Elroy and Elroy would get mad and say “no ways we selling that bull Jo”. One day they nearly came to blows over that bull.

                        It was the only time Twilight seen Elroy get real mad with Jo. They were real close those two. They were all close really. They had to keep together when Momma and Poppa died. Uncle Bart turned up at the news of their folks dying, wanted to take the ranch, but Elroy , well he got Poppa’s rifle and chased Uncle Bart away. Elroy said he would have shot Uncle Bart had he tried any harder to take the ranch. Twilight would look in his eyes when he told the story and she knew he weren’t jesting. A few others tried to interfere also. Somehow they all stayed together and kept the ranch.

                        Elroy won that blue bull. It was real rare and very fine and people would pay plenty for a bull like that bull. Elroy said he won it anyhow. He turned up with it one day, and he was real quiet. Twilight saw him whispering to Jo, and Jo looked real concerned. She thought it best not to ask too many questions and so she kept what she seen to herself. But she couldn’t help but be wondering.

                        Twilight wanted to help take the load off her brothers so she got herself a job dancing in the saloon in town. She liked to call it performing though. Sounded more high class. She watched the other dancers till she taught herself to do it. She would hide in the saloon and watch them. That was one good thing about not having a Momma and a Poppa. She could pretty well do what she wanted. She liked dancing and she knew she were real good at it and pretty soon she was the dancer everyone wanted to see. She’d rather have a Momma and Poppa though, truth be told.

                        One of the other girls, Anna, she was real pretty too, got jealous and tried to get Twilight kicked out, said she was too young to be dancing . Anyhow Anna had a soft spot for Jo and so he soon sweet talked her round. Jo and Elroy were real good looking boys, and plenty of girls liked them so Twilight was pretty lucky to have them look out for her. ( Elroy said she should wear a blond wig for her dancing, like a disguise, and Twilight thought this was real funny. But she wore it anyway.) Anna got pregnant, and she said Jo was the daddy, but everyone in town knew she slept with plenty of fellows, and Jo weren’t having a bar of it. Anna got real fat with the baby and had to stop dancing and now she lived with some old fellow who was always drunk and would eye up Twilight when she was dancing. Sometimes Twilight would tease Jo about the baby and call him “daddio” and he would get real mad with her. But could be his, that’s the truth. Poor little baby but she were glad Jo weren’t stuck with that Anna.

                        Twilight knew the men looked at her. She knew what they were thinking and she didn’t mind. She weren’t no fool though. She had plans. She was going to be somebody, not laid up with some damn sprog like that Anna. Some of the money she earned she’d give to Elroy, some of it she put in a tin can she kept hidden.

                        Last night some fellow from out of town came in. A sheriff. She heard the girls whispering and giggling about him. Sheriff Ted Marshall was his name. He was real fine looking and all the girls were in a flutter hoping he would look at them. Twilight wondered what he was doing in town. She hoped it were nothing to do with that bull of Elroys.

                        #473

                        Beattie and Leonora ordered another two gin and tonics. The longer they had to wait for Bartolo, the less they minded waiting; the generous measures of gin and the friendly banter with the locals in the venta was warmly pleasant and convivial. Bartolo was the ‘runner’, the man who knew about houses for sale, or available to rent in the valley, and he was several hours late.

                        Jose Maria had been eavesdropping on the conversation, and suddenly had an idea.

                      Viewing 20 results - 861 through 880 (of 969 total)