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December 25, 2008 at 10:46 pm #1276
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky had to sneak out of the facility without Gayesh’s notice. He had been very protective of his favorite clone subject lately and she had been feeling a bit restrained in her movements.
Sam’s invitation was a breath of fresh air, but she wouldn’t have admitted it openly.
She knew perfectly that Sam wasn’t fooled by her hesitation but she had to play her role to the nails.She had asked him to come and get her in that spider cruiser she’d heard of once. It always had that funny feeling to her and secretly she had wished that one day…
The technology used to manufacture that machine had evolved since the first prototype and now it was much faster and didn’t rely on oil. She’d heard that the trip from Le Havre to New-York was only 3 hours now. She wondered how much that would make from Colombo to the City.
Well Sam told her to be on the Galle Face Colombo Beach at noon. She had a couple of hours to make some shopping. Some of the best free-shops of the city were in the vicinity. And she would need some special present as far as she had understood.
December 25, 2008 at 7:17 pm #1275In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Oh great!” Dory felt relieved when she saw Dan on the muddy yellow tractor coming up the hill.
She’s been boulder-moving with the neighbours for hours now on Salitre, to remove the blocked entrance of what was believed to be an ancient opening to a cave, or better, a tunnel full of mysteries. And despite her unwavering enthusiasm, she started to show signs of tiredness.
“Whose truck is that?” asked Dory to Dan who was grinning on top of the monster
“The old folks at Juan’s pueblo; I figured out they got that tractor that hasn’t been used since Jose and Paquita inherited their millions and buggered off a while ago…”
“Bless them!” sighed Dory in relief, reaching for another cup of the warming mulled wine that Leonora had been preparing for the Yule Boulder Party.December 25, 2008 at 3:29 pm #1273In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
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.
December 24, 2008 at 6:18 pm #1271In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
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.
December 12, 2008 at 11:52 pm #1247In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
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.December 3, 2008 at 10:39 am #1238In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Alizabath Tittler took another draw on her fag of nicoback.
Passing her hand through her wild and matted hair, she noticed there were mare and mare bald patches hare and thare instead of her former lusciaas mane… and her ayes a tad blaadshat, but she trusted she was beautifaal.Taking another slaarp off her glass of dark red clarat wine —her faarth? she had lost count…— she sighed remembering the gaad old days. Not that she missed her dazen of previaas hubbas, nah.
She was comfartable tonight. Orok the building manager, one had to concede it to him, had decided to heat the building earlier this year, due to the falling temperatures, and it was all very warm and cosy inside. Traath was, she barely wanted to get out of the building at all, having Fannley order Chaanese faad for her, under the pretaxt to fanish her next novel. But end was never nearly in sight.
Her pablisher, Brackel, was still asking her about her next manuscraapt, and Fannley, the claaning-lady of the office (she only figured out recently that she actually was a ‘she’) was thrawing suspiciaas laaks on her every time they met.
All in all, life laaked almost the same. Not the same without a Lemane quote though.
She opened his last baak at random, laaking for a paarl of wisdam.I think that’s one of the reason why I don’t really appreciate Xmas, because of that sickening tradobligation of buying crappy stuff, but as long as you’re on facegoat, I can send good karma to you.
“Waw!” What an ideaa, this yeaar, she will send gaad karma to her ex-husbaands.
“Anathar wan!” She couldn’t get her hands aff such profaand baak.
Roger-Y, her pet talking white gaase started to screech frantically “Anathar WAN! Anathar WAN!” making her little fainting mongrats collapse to the flaar.
“pftlabaltloup”: that’s the Samari word for what I wanted to say: it may sound a little dismissive, but it’s pronounced fruit-lab-at-loop. Indeed; ‘fruit’ because the emails like snoot fruits, ‘lab’ for the extraction of the quintessence, and ‘loop’ to keep in loop… And we are complete.
“Waw” She was always struggling to kaap in the laap with all her characters; naw, that was something to consider, as she was Samari belonging herself, not at all Vaaldish like her mather. Gad forbads.
December 2, 2008 at 3:46 pm #1233In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When he had been hit by the blow of the watermelbombs and the furious lady he had come to rescue, Akita found himself in a strange peaceful place. He was getting bits of what was happening, but the will to resist and fight seemed vanished in a distant scene he was only distantly aware of.
He was seeing Kay, his spirit dog beside him, beckoning him to another place of white luminous and warm peacefulness.“Am I dying” he asked, feeling the answer to the question wasn’t very important.
“Don’t be silly” the dog said mentally “Just let go for a moment, it’ll make things easier for you to get out of this place to another one you’d prefer”
“I’m not sure going anywhere is so important, being here reminds me of something long forgotten”
“Yes, you know this place, you’re drawing to you some memories of others of your focuses, explorers from your time and also ancient dwellers, in a very very distant past. These living memories will help you.”
“You were there too, configured differently but I remember you from there”
“Yes” the dog nodded “you had a pack of dogs in one of these explorer focuses. I was the alpha one, see…”Some scenes moved in the white foam sprinkled with diamond dust like he was seeing through openings in a crystal cave. All was so clear it was elating.
“But we’re never going to get out of this place, not without a boat, a plane, not without a compass… and not without a brain!” he was being drawn back to where his body was, wrapped in the warm snet, jumping on the back of the snow scooter. “These women will lead us to a sure death, and pretty fast!”
“Just relax, even if they don’t give that impression, they know what they are doing. They focus on what they want, and they trust. They can’t see the dead-ends you are seeing. Sometimes you get caught up in those other memories of yours. You’ve read adventures of Antarctica explorers, most of them were drama, but it doesn’t have to be the same broken record now, you’re going to love that time if you choose to…”
“They’re so focused on themselves it’s hard to believe you. They wouldn’t see a leopard seal as a threat even if it was at their throats!”
“But they wouldn’t even draw the predator to them in the first place.” Kay was saying warmly “Have a little faith in them, there is a surprise coming along that’ll show you beyond a shred of doubt that their allowing for miracles is fairly titanic.”
“Titanic, yes… Now tell me I shouldn’t worry with all those icebergs!”
“Indeed” Kay said with a hint of mischief in its ethereal voice “Now, let’s wake up and have some fun!”November 29, 2008 at 1:29 pm #1828In reply to: Synchronicity
In the fat ladies thread, here are a few funnies, consequent to a little video from Little Britain, with iconic Bubbles DeVere
About Jilly Cooper ;
- “She also wrote a series of children’s books featuring the heroine ‘Little Mabel’.” Little Mabel Saves The Day etc.
- Riders and the following books are characterised by intricate plots, featuring multiple story lines and a large number of characters. (To help the reader keep track, each book begins with a list and brief description of the characters.)
- “The stories heavily feature adultery, (sexual) infidelity and general betrayal, melodramatic misunderstandings and emotions, money worries and domestic upheavals.” (T’Eggy Pooh?)
- Jolly in her books titles, a word I used without much thought to it in the last comments
- Angels Rush In
- Adopted children Emily and Felix (I had a Felix sync when I opened the book at random and got caught in FP’s comment about Felix Otterworthy )
November 20, 2008 at 10:42 am #1215In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Well, Sanso” said Zhaana a trifle breathlessly, her flushed with wonder. “ The Elsepace Arrangement was certainly an eye opener, if eye opener is the right word. So what next?”
Sanso laughed uproariously. “What next? What next, AHAAAHAA HA HA! What next indeed!”
“What’s so funny?” asked the little girl, her face starting to crumple.
“Oh don’t do the old crumple face, Zhaana, I’m laughing at myself as much as anything” Sanso replied, giving her a quick hug. He couldn’t bear the sight of crumple faced children.
“Well, I still don’t understand why you’re laughing” she replied with a pout.
“It’s actually a very good question, and one I sometimes find I ask myself. Well, I used to ask myself “what next” all the time, as if it was somehow important to know where I was going next, to have a destination or a plan.”
“But if you don’t have a destination, how do you know where to go next?” Zhaana was confused.
Sanso smiled. “It doesn’t matter where you go next, little one, because you’re always at the centre of everything. You can go in any direction you want and you’ll always be at the centre of everything.”
“Well if that’s the case, why not just stay right where I am, then?”
“Do you want to do that? Stay right where you are?”
“No! I …er….no! of course not!”
“Why not?” Sanso asked with a gentle smile.
“Well, if I stay right here, and don’t go in any direction, everything will always be the same” she replied, frowning.
“And what would be wrong with that?”
Zhaana had to think about this. “Well, it wouldn’t be wrong I guess, but it would be boring. There wouldn’t be any surprises…..”
“Ah so you like surprises, then!” Sanso was grinning.
“Yes, I love surprises!”
“Well then why do you want to plan where you’re going next?”
Zhaana opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. Sanso was confusing her, and she didn’t know what to say.
“OK then, Sanso, you are always wandering around, how do you decide where to go next?” asked Zhaana, rather cleverly responding to the difficult question with a question of her own.
“I get an impulse, or I see a sign, and I follow it.”
“What do you mean, a sign?” Zhaana understood about impulses: after all, she had followed her impulse to leave horrid old Uncle Grishenka and follow Sanso into the cave. She wasn’t sure about signs, though.
“I’m not sure I can describe a sign, really. They just appear, and so I notice them.”
“Well, after you notice them, then what?”
“Well” said Sanso “Then you interpret the sign however you want to, and then you act on it.”
“You can interpret the sign however you want?” asked Zhaana with a hint of disbelief in her voice.
“Yup” replied Sanso. “That’s about the size of it, Sweetpea.”
“Oh Godfrey, I’ve been trying to get the theme word into this entry and I’m just not getting any closer.” Elizabeth sighed, and pushed her keyboard away. Quickly she pulled the keyboard back so that she could write what Godfrey replied.
“Have some more peanuts, Liz” he replied with a laugh.
Elizabeth pushed the keyboard away again and passed Godfrey the peanuts .
A few moments later Elizabeth pulled the keyboard back and wrote:
“Sanso, a word just popped into my head, do you think it might be a sign?” Zhaana asked excitedly. “It just popped in from nowhere!”
“Sure it’ll be a clue, and what was the word?” he replied, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a chuckle. He had heard the word too, and knew exactly where it was coming from, but he wasn’t going to spoil the moment for his little friend.
“Moonbeams!” she announced proudly. “I heard the word moonbeams !”
November 11, 2008 at 10:35 am #1209In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Phoebe Chesterhope. Part II
She wasn’t paying attention to the other clients. She was like one of these statues at Madame Tussauds, still and beautiful, surrounded by mystery. Was she lost in her thoughts? Her rich clothes suggested that she was fortunate and the anxious look the jeweller was giving her every 2 minutes let me think that she was also quite influencing.
About ten minutes after we had entered the shop with Catherine, a man arrived. Small and bald, poorly dressed, he was carrying a parcel wrapped in a piece of rough fabric that he was holding very carefully. The owner almost jumped on him in his rush and told him something briefly before he introduced him to Madam Tussaud, her face suddenly filled up with life. Not that she was smiling or welcoming him in any manner, but her eyes were suddenly sparkling with determination. I realized that she was taking on herself not to look too obviously at the parcel.
“I expect you have a more private place so we can discuss our arrangement with mister…”
“Fessard, Madam. Roger Fessard.”
“Whatever…” she took her time to look openly at the other customers before she continued, staring reproachfully at the man. “I need some privacy to evaluate what he brought me.”Her accent was almost perfect and her french flawless. But faking to be a stranger myself most of the time, I was sure she wasn’t from here… maybe Britain.
“Of course, Madam” said the owner in his conspicuous servile tone. He led Madam and Roger to a door behind the counter and they entered the room; the bald man put his packet on a table and began to unwrap it as Madam said sharply to the jeweller : “Leave us.” The damn man obeyed and closed the door before I could see anything more.
November 10, 2008 at 4:38 pm #1203In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The 3 ladies didn’t have the time to get prepared as the door was blown open by an explosion, the sound of which made their newly very sensitive ears suffer hell!
“Oh! me god I’m wounded!” Mavis shouted suddenly. “You 2 have to avenge me, I think I’m not gonna make it…”
“Don’t be so silly, Mavis, you’re perfectly healthy! It’s just watermelon flesh! But shush! We’re not alone…” shouted Gloria as the explosion had made her deaf too.
A shadow suddenly entered the room full of vaporized watermelon juice… The red mist was almost opaque and Glo couldn’t identify clearly what it was. A big round head, obviously an alien… but with their new strength and the snet they would put it down in no time.
She jumped on the form and shouted to her companions to throw the snet. As she tried to bite the big rounded head another jumped on her with a gnarling bark. She was projected on the opposite wall, almost knocked out. As the red mist began dissipating, she could clearly see a knocked out Akita with a watermelmet on his head…
November 10, 2008 at 2:05 pm #1201In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
It wasn’t very difficult for Akita to have the door opened. Having Kay roam unnoticed in the rooms and corridors next to his cell made things very easy actually, giving him enough time to do his things.
He’d known the art of lock-picking since he was a child, and he would have been able to open that door’s latch blindfolded, hands tied behind his back, with only his big toe and dental floss… so old this one was.So in a few minutes he was out; a few minutes later, he had found a proper military outfit in the lockers, Kay had been giving him the codes of, and as everyone was gone for the lunch break, the whole area was deserted.
The greenhouse room was open, and a blinding light was pouring into it.
“You didn’t tell me what made these watermelons special” Akita turned to the phantom dog.
“Why don’t you have a try by yourself… Take a little one over there, and throw it on the opposite wall”
Akita did as instructed, then backed off quickly blown off by the explosion .
“Watermelbombs? are you kidding?”
“Not really; it’s sad, but people have done lots of researches here to produce bio-degradable weapons easily grown. I think it wasn’t a coincidence you and the others have been brought here”
“The others? You mean… Oh sh*t, I forgot the ladies, don’t tell me they’re still here?”
“Yep, they are here. And they’re quite ready to fight for their survival too, believe it or not”
“Oh, I don’t have any trouble seeing them as fierce warriors!”
October 28, 2008 at 7:17 pm #1182In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Wait a minute, you’re telling me that you’re a Parcel Delivery company, and you don’t have a map? You deliver parcels and you don’t have a map, you don’t have the internet, and your delivery man doesn’t have a phone?”
Bea was beginning to sound exasperated, Leonora thought. Must be the parcel people. “Parcel people?” she asked. “ A mobile phone wouldn’t be any use here anyway, Bea” she added “There’s no network cover.”
“My address?” Bea said into the telephone in an increasingly desperate voice. “Three people have called asking for my address” Bea took a deep breath and tried to change her energy. “My address is The House Down The Road Behind The Black Horse Bar” Bea paused for breath and continued “Through The Green Gates which are Behind The Fountain And Next To The Palm Tree. Tomorrow? You were supposed to come today! You were supposed to come yesterday as a matter of fact so I stayed home all day…”
“You weren’t going out anywhere anyway, Bea” Leo said mildly.
“Well I won’t be here tomorrow, can you just leave the parcel at the post office? What? Of course they’ll know who it’s for, it’ll have my bloody name and address on it! What? No, I don’t know what street the post office is on, haven’t you got a map? No? Well Google it! You’re kidding. You’re a parcel delivery company! What’s your name, by the way?”
“Well would you believe it, she hung up on me!”
“How wonderfully Spanish” said Leonora. “Remember the last parcel people? Wouldn’t deliver to houses without a number. So if I go out and paint a number, let’s say 57, on my gate, you’ll deliver the parcel, I said to them, and they said, well yes I suppose so, so I did. I went out to the shed and grabbed the first paint…”
“That swimming pool blue”
“…yeah bit bright isn’t it, that blue paint and I painted the number on it, and the neighbours came out and asked what I was doing…”
“They delivered the parcel though, didn’t they Leo”
“They did. There’s a knack to dealing with parcel people.”
Bea was quiet for a few minutes and then asked “What’s that then?”
“What’s what?” asked Leonora.
“What’s the knack? How do you get parcel people to deliver?”
Leo laughed and said she didn’t really know. “Change your energy, make a game of it, see what happens.”
Just then the phone rang. Bea answered it.
“Well how about that” said Bea, hanging up the phone a few moments later. “That was the parcel delivery man. He’s on his way now.”
Five or six hours later, just after the parcel delivery man had finally arrived, Bea beamed as she opened the brown cardboard parcel.
“I’ve been dying to read this, it’s the sequel to T’Eggy Gets a Good Rogering. I ordered two copies, I thought Baked Bean Barb might want one too, you know, as a bit of a thank you for the book she’s bringing round for us.”
Leo said “You what!” and rolled her eyes. “Really Bea, couldn’t you have chosen something better than that?”
“Define ‘better’, Miss Prim Prunes” retorted Bea. She was too happy about the books arrival to mind Leo’s remarks. Then she shouted “OH MY GOD! They’ve sent the wrong books!” so loudly that Leo jumped.
“Good grief!” exclaimed Leonora, taking a closer look. “Circle of Eights! But that’s the book that Baked Bean Barb found on the rubbish tip, the book she’s bringing round for us!”
“I don’t believe it!” Bea whispered, awed by the bizarre coincidence. “That’s the book with us in it.”
“What a hoot!” said Leo.
October 22, 2008 at 6:14 pm #1172In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
After he sent his reply to Yann, Yurick took a deep breathe in appreciation of all that had been done the last past days.
However tedious, all in all, it had allowed him to stay away from other people’s trauma, and stay focused on his own issues. Now, the feeling of the energy at hand was starting to become lighter. Like a thin ray of light poking through a thick layer of rainy clouds, announcing that the silver lining was more than just a consolation. It was announcing the sun to come.
He took the book of stories that had been unburied (like his pleasure to write) from the bottom of the sofa’s cushions when they’d received hosts last week-end, and looked with amusement at the opening note about the “random quotes”.
A strong sense of an inkling started to dawn at him.
Thanks to the random quotes —or more appropriately said, to convenient synchronicities— “stuff” was never lost or buried in the insides of that ever-growing story, which was eating with gluttony at the edges of its expansion. Things were popping up here and there, reminding of old loose threads, or pertinent inclusions or links to be made.But there was more. He, for a long time, had thought that imagination was expanding things to make physical reality look smaller in proportion than it was. Like when they’d looked at Dory’s pictures, and everything looked so big on them. Even the mere thought of nine dogs was huge. But when they’d met her, and Dan, and the dogs, it was all so much smaller. Even seeing Dory manage her dogs made having nine dogs seem manageable.
But the reverse was true: physical reality had its way of dwarfing imagination. Not so much making it smaller, but compacting it, making it fit in an unbelievably condensed and small space.Take that book. Thousands of words, billions of probabilities, endless threads and hundreds of characters, all packaged in a small stack of inked paper. The trick was that when you look at it that way, when you got that small stack of paper in your hands, it all seems so manageable; one starts to get accustomed to it, then fails to see the newness in it each time it’s opened to tell a story.
Imagination is the true gauge of the vastness of the universe. It’s so easy to forget…
October 19, 2008 at 12:27 am #1160In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“ broadcasting seeds of absurdity in the cornfields and the meadows of the hay hoo down dooly…” Baked Bean Barb opened the book at random again and read a few lines. It was an odd book for sure, but strangely compelling. You never knew what you’d find on rubbish tips. Baked Bean Barb liked the sound of that, broadcasting seeds of absurdity.
September 30, 2008 at 11:20 am #1146In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”
“Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.
“As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”
“Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.
“Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”
Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”
Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR”
“So what did you learn about the door, then?”
Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”
“If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”
Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:
I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house, and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one. The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room. Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.
“Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”
Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once, I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through. Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks but I carried on anyway.
“Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.
It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows of closed doors on either side). The foyer opened out on the left into a large old fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at a table. I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors onto an upstairs outdoor terrace. There was a city scene below. On the left was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.
“Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.
“Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.
A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up. She collapsed into the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.
“Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”
Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”
“You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.
I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.
“Maybe it was a baby dragon?”
“Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.
I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it was bulging out under my fingers. It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature, and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that curved round to the right at a landing below. I started to fall down the stairs and knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself, and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in the same place, clutching the banister.
“Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.
“Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”
“The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.
“The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”
Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.
“The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”
Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.
“Pffft” said Bea.
“More coffee?”
September 13, 2008 at 11:20 pm #1142In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“I had an absolutely brilliant revelation last night” Bea was saying “about The Door. Buggered if I can remember what it was, though.”
“Well fat lot of use that is then, Bea” replied Leonora. “Any snapshots? Can you remember anything at all?”
“Well, there was a big pale green patch that floated down, then there was the floating part, oh and all the coloured light flashes…the French girl, the old fashioned scene…..and that weird change of focus, sort of off centre and a bit out of body, with the guy behind my right shoulder shouting HEY every time my focus started drifting back to normal. Oh, and the spiraling part, that was cool too!” Bea was starting to drift off into another world just thinking about it.
“Yes, well, now we know all about The Door” said Leonora sarcastically. “Very helpful, Bea, well done.”
“That’s it!” shouted Bea, leaning forward in excitement. “It’s about blocking energy!”
Leonora rolled her eyes.
“Holding tightly to energy, that’s what the closed door is. I can have an open door, and still be free to create who walks through it. We don’t lock the door here, do we, but we don’t get any intruders.”
“Maybe that’s because we’ve got nine dogs” said Leo. “And anyway, define intruder, in a ‘you create your own reality’ context. What’s the difference between an intruder, and a wonderful surprise?”
Bea was stumped for a moment. “That’s a good question, Leo, we’ll come back to that in a bit, but let me finish telling you this before I forget again.
I used to mentally open a big double door every time I did a meditation or went to sleep” Bea continued “and I havent opened that door in months. Well, sometimes it’s open, obviously, but I dont seem to throw the doors open wide anymore, you know, to other energies objectively, if you see what I mean.”Bea was starting to ramble. “I used to invite any Tom, Dick and Harry to my meditations as long as they weren’t aliens.”
“What about the dogs in raincoats dimension?” asked Leo “What were they if they weren’t aliens?”
“Oh, they were alright, I liked them. Oh you know what I’m like about that other dimensional stuff, don’t get me started on that now. I think occasionally things happen and I get rattled, and shut the door for a bit.”
“Right, so let see if I’ve got this straight” said Leonora “There’s more than one layer to this Door thing because what you’ve just told me is what’s going on in your reality. The question is, what’s going on in mine?”
“Buggered if I know, Leo” Bea replied. “Fancy a cuppa?”
September 12, 2008 at 5:46 pm #1136In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The interior of the Fly-boat was a bit like a Tardis, in that it was very much bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside, and quite a different shape, too. While the exterior of the fly-boat resembled a cross between a duck and a bee, the interior was circular. There was a high point in the centre of the ceiling, and richly embroidered tapestries draping down to the floor in sumptuous folds, looking for all the world like a yurt.
Yukailli Airlines has a decidedly exotic and oriental air, Dory thought as she perused the in flight magazine, which was written in a charming but indecipherable script resembling the Voynich Papers.
“This is your captain speaking” a disembodied voice boomed. “Welcome aboard! My name is Ignoratio Elenchi, and I trust that you will have a most enjoyable flight with Yukailli AirBoats. There will be no obligation to fasten your seatbelts and you may smoke all through the flight. Our cabin crew will be preparing Vedic Stew over an open fire in the central area of the craft at 11:11. For your in-flight entertainment, up on the open air flight deck there will be a continuous light show by Aurora Borealis. If you want us to stop the flyboat at any point to take snapshots” continued Ignoratio, “Please don’t hesitate to ask.”
September 10, 2008 at 2:37 pm #1132In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Dory finished the puzzle, yawned and glanced at her watch. There was no sign of the flight to Long Pong leaving any time soon, so she made her flightbag into a pillow and settled herself along the plastic seating for a nap.
She dreamed first of her grandparents in their old house in Slurbridge. The house was the same, but her grandparents, Florence and Samuel, were much younger than she had ever known them during her lifetime. They were preparing for guests, and Florence was rearranging the bedding in the upstairs bedrooms. Apparently one more guest was expected than previously arranged, and she had squeezed in a single camp bed next to a double bed. Dory had an idea the camp bed was for Dan’s niece, Aurelia. Funny that, as Florence and Samuel had never known Aurelia ~ or Dan for that matter.
The dream landscape changed then to an island. The “Others” were coming and she and her friends had to hide. “Let’s hide in the pyramid” one of them had said, but Dory replied “No, we must hide somewhere less obvious, until we know what the “Others” are like.” They weren’t afraid, but they were taking precautions. Someone had been looking after the dogs and cats, but when Dory went to check on them, they had been ‘kept safe’ in a freezer. As Dory opened the door, a half frozen black cat emerged and ran off. “I reckon she’s better off taking her chances out there than in the freezer!” said Dory. At the bottom of the freezer were some frozen parts of Tom, Captain Bone. There was no sign of the others, but strangely, Dory wasn’t worried.
Next to the freezer was a cupboard, and Dory grabbed a handful of magnetic fridge letters, thinking that they would come in handy as clues while they were hiding from the “Others”.
“Yukailli Airlines direct flight leaving for Tikfijikoo Island at Gate 57 and three quarters” the bag lady prodded Dory, amidst a shower of electric blue sparks. “Wake up!”
September 8, 2008 at 9:25 pm #1114In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Inside the cave, the presence of Leormn, though not completely gone, had diminished strongly. Most of the creatures inside the cave were thriving on his presence and his continuous reshaping of the corridors or the chambers. His presence was fading out gradually, and some of the more sensitive creatures were beginning to feel a discomfort, a kind of emptiness or a sensation of cold.
Malvina was not alarmed yet, it was a good thing he had allowed himself that little escapade. In a subtle way, he was reconciling some aspects of himself that he had been unaware of yet, and it was also a surprise to Malvina that the gates would reopen in that particular time frame, to the long lost sister of the Duane. Her awareness of what her dragon was doing was dim, and it had been so since the door had shut after the passage of Arona. This young girl had more than one trick up her mouldy cloak, and though she was unaware of most of them, she had an innate sense of using them wittingly.
Malvina smiled at the thought that she was quite similar to the girl when she was young… a long time ago.
But for now, she had other processes to set in motion. She focused on herself and adjusted her energy to match the signature of her friends Georges and Salome. It didn’t took long. Their presence was quite strong. As they were busy at the moment, she decided to go for a walk and meet them on her way.
Georges and Salome were in the pool chamber that Leormn had kindly created for them inside the cave. It was continuously provided in hot water by a spring located on the ceiling and several families of glukenitch had furnished the place with the perfect amount of light…
Georges was following her progression from a ledge made of a rock similar to granite. He’d always been fascinated by her way of expressing her grace and technical mastery in any domain. When they had met, she couldn’t swim… and she wouldn’t. It’d been years later, when she had got rid of her wariness of water that she had considered the idea.
Now she was as comfortable inside and outside water, as well as in many different environments.Being continuously connected, their energy field mingled in such an intimate way, he could easily turn his attention on her physical sensations; all the tiniest movements of the water upon her skin and also all of the adjustments she was making to her body inside and outside to improve the efficiency of her movements.
He dived off his observation point to play with her.
Alerted by his movement, she went deeper into the pool. He knew that she hadn’t modified her body to the point of incorporating gills, because it was usually difficult for her to get rid of them afterward. She had a soft spot for apnea, though and she was quite able of staying under water for lengthy amount of time.Still focused on his swimming, he began to redirect certain aspects of his body consciousness. Some were unnecessary for his purpose, so he got rid of them; and he needed to give some other qualities to his skin. It took him a few seconds to shape-shift and he focused on his new physical senses to indicate him where she was.
When she realized what Georges was doing, she resisted the impulse to go to the surface.
What is he up to? she thought. When he’s in the process of shape-shifting his attention is so oriented inside that I can’t usually get any impression about his new shape, but…A flash of light illuminated the water around him, and the rhythm of the blinking cells of his new skin was creating a time related pattern with an hypnotic effect. Salome was feeling drowsy and she had to maintain her attention on herself or she’d better get back to the surface soon. If she wanted to play with him now, she would have to change form too.
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