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Elvira was tucking into some reindeer stew left over from Becky and Sean’s wedding when she telepathically tuned into Becky’s distress signal. Chewing thoughtfully, Elvira tried to make sense of the visual imagery she was receiving. She seemed to be getting a mixed message; was it a nun, or was it a tart? She reminded herself to trust her impressions, and not discount them even if they seemed incongruous or unlikely, and accepted that Becky was indeed in some kind of tarty nun trouble. The question was, where was Becky.

Elvira pushed her empty plate away, and focused on the situation. AHA! Nutley Park, 25th bush on the left.

Boris, I’m going out, she said. Becky’s in a spot of tarty nun trouble in Nutley park.

Right Ho, dear, shall I come and help?

Another image of popped into Elvira’s head of the see-through black mini dress. Er, no Boris, I’ll handle this myself.

And with that, Elvira, sprightly old crone that she was (and fortified with mushroom laced reindeer stew) bustled off to hail a gondola cab, carrying a large carpet bag containing a selection of hastily chosen clothing.

After a long but uneventful ride in the yellow gondola cab, Becky stepped out onto terra firma and strolled through the park.

Various fleeting images of the wedding party flashed through her mind, and she recalled the change in Elvira after the meal. She certainly tucked into that reindeer stew, Becky mused, Had a right good scoff, she did. Funny, anyone eating four helpings of that slop would be expected to slump in a chair for an hour or two, but Elvira had sprung into life. She looked pretty good for 121 years old, but who would have guessed what a splendid dancer she was! She put the younger guests to shame with her fancy steps, and tireless enthusiasm.

And not only that, she’d really come into her own when the drunken fights started, fearlessly breaking up fights between men twice her size.

Dory was bored. She didn’t really know whether to be Dory, or Becky, or even Illi today. Maybe I will be someone new, she thought. Hmmm……

Elvira, how about that. Well, Elvira was just as bored as Elvira as she would have been as Dory, Becky or anyone else for that matter. What happens when the inspiration goes? Where does it go? One minute the world is full of interesting things, and then Poof! nothing is very interesting at all……

Elvira had lots of interesting things to do, she had many books, and various artistic projects half started or not even started, just thought about on and off for ages, and she had puppies to play with, and a big drawer full of pens and things to draw with. She had a camera that took little videos that was often a lot of fun…but nothing seemed worth the trouble today, nothing at all…..not even that silly wacom thing, and after all that fuss to buy it, too…it was more fun talking about buying it then the darn thing ever was afterwards…..

The Internet, how could anyone be bored with an internet! There must be something seriously wrong with her to be bored when she had Internet! But she halfheartedly googled this, googled that…ho hum, tedium, nothing very interesting there….

Well, what about your imagination then! Elvira sat up a bit straighter, challenging herself. You can surely do something interesting in your imagination, can’t you?

She slumped back down again, and sighed. Like what? Well, imagine you are out in the sun, going for a walk…..

Well ok, then, I am on the beach. At first I feel the sun on the top of my head and I squint at the bright sparkles on the sea. Then, my ears are ringing with cold, it’s a windy cold day after all and not much fun on the beach at all. Oh pull yourself together, woman! Pull your scarf round your ears! It’s a great day for driftwood, just look at those waves rolling in.

I am trudging along, and the sand is hard to walk on and makes my legs ache. My God, I am out of shape! There are soggy oranges and piles of bamboo sticks, and plastic bottles all washed up in curving heaps. A soggy Marlboro carton; my, are they still smuggling fags from Gibraltar, I am so out of the smuggling loop these days….

Well, was that it? Elvira chastised herself. Not much of a flight of imagination there, was it? Maybe a walk along the river instead…..

Oh alright, if I have to…..actually I can’t be bothered to do this imaginary walk either, it’s no use….nothing is really very interesting today. I would like someone to amuse me, charmingly, pointlessly, something funny and light, and delightfully meaningless and simple…..

And god forbid, nothing to do with beliefs, please! Or any of that weird stuff, like other lives and other dimensions, and talking to aliens and all that weirdo stuff….weirdo, weirdo, stuff! UGGHHH Elvira shuddered.

Well, one thing I am pleased about, she mused almost happily, I can smoke again now my lungs are behaving. I thought I would be gloriously happy forever if I could only breathe without fear, and already I am Ho Hum about breathing….thought for sure I’d remember to focus on every brilliantly wonderful NOW moment, I did, after that fright with the lungs, but no….back to normal, well, worse than normal really, because now I am not even interested in anything……

I wonder if I should start drinking again…..Oh don’t be silly, Elvira told herself rather sharply. Well, drugs then, maybe that would buck me up. It’d buck you up alright, but for how long? Well when they wore off, I could take some more.

Yeah, right…..

Elvira sighed again. Even Bertie Wooster hadn’t even managed to raise a smile this time, and he always used to make her smile. Reading Wodehouse now made her frown, wondering what ever she had used to find so amusing……

The birds are making a racket out there, she noticed. Whatever do they find to sing about all day? Chirp chirp…jeeze….. maybe I should take up golf, she wondered. Dan seems to always have an interest, something passionately all-consuming……he never has enough hours in the day for all HIS interesting things….

Where have all my interesting things GONE?

Everybody was talking about this new yellow flying car… and one of Sam’s friends had now got one at the “shop”.
This was the new buzz in the city, making things go so fast and easy… better than the gondolas, really , some were saying.
But for Sam it was all the same… teleportation would really suit him better

For now, his friend was coming, he had called Sam and asked him to let his window open so he could park his new car next to it and enter directly in the apartment. So much fuss about it.

You know, Leo, there was something funny about that guy, mused Bea. It almost seems like a dream…

Hmmm? Leonora wasn’t really listening, she was engrossed in the Yurara Fameliki website.

Bea was running her hands along a length of thin black cable. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this cable, Leo, it just don’t seem right some’ow…

With a sigh, Leonora turned to face Bea and said, I’ll never bloody catch up with that Yurara story now. Three weeks with no internet, as fast as I’m reading a chapter, another three have started, it’s doing my f’kin’ ‘ead in.

Well I don’t know what your problem is all of a sudden, Leo, since when did you ever read anything in the right order?

Oh, bloody good point, eh, Leonora felt instantly cheered. I forgot that, it’s true. Matter of fact, she chuckled, I just got lost roaming around all the first chapters, Heh…..wasn’t even trying to get the latest lot straight.

What did you say it was called? asked Bea.

What was what called?

The website you were just going on about. Bea rolled her eyes.

Oh! heh….Yurara Fameliki; why?

There was an article in the Reality Times about them yesterday. Some batty old woman left them a fortune, apparently. Circle of Eights or something….

Circle of Eights? Leo had an image of interlocking circles that felt strangely familiar, meaningful somehow…

Yeah, this old lady was 88 when she died, and she was reading the 888th entry when she saw the ‘Buy A Drink’ link…she lived at 88, Faraway Close, too, Nottingham…..

How much dosh did she leave them?

£8,888,857,823

F’kin’ ‘ell….ooof! It could be that easy, eh. I want a ‘Buy A Drink’ link, too.

Well, a website would be a start, eh. Where you going to stick your ‘Buy A Drink’ link, on yer arse?

Heheh, bugger off Bea, Leo said good naturedly.

She was beginning to catch a few sparkly glimmerings of an idea.

Finn decided to go and sit in the park at the playground over the road. She needed to feel the grass under her feet, and the warm sun on her body. There had been a small shower of rain earlier, the orchardists will be pleased, she thought, but it had cleared up now, and everything had a newly washed feel. She felt the gentle breeze on her skin, and sighed happily. At least I know this this feels real to me.

He decided to go for it.

PROUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT

and it rippled through his dreams and created of new sparkling realities… some quite smelly by our standards

I wonder if it’s a private party, Sanso? Arona looked wistfully into the discave with its magical sparkling light and jolly music.

I don’t know, whispered Sanso. Let’s just lurk for awhile and see if anyone else turns up.

Arona and Sanso huddled together in the shadows and watched.

The bal room was ready. Malvina was looking around and decided that all was perfect now
She felt the subtle ripples of her friends energy. Sam was waiting patiently their arrival.

The east wall just blurred and began to glow lightly of deep teal and emerald shades, blended in a beautiful and quite creative whirlpool.

Malvina just moved her attention on the encoding of her hair and shift slightly some hue to express a dark stary night, sparkling and full of mystery.

A thrill went through her body as she saw Georges and Salome emerge from the wall… and she burst into laughter at the sight of the marmoset which was looking at her with such a big smile

Her laugh rippled through the crystals of the cave, making their light iridescent and swinging.

— WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! A giant disco ball just for us.

Georges couldn’t stop laughing and began dancing as Salome was generating a peppy and swinging music… he was all jumping and swirling, and Sam was jumping all around, barking at him with joy.

— What the hell, began Leörmn but he was fascinated.

And that’s when a wavy Irtak entered the discave with his 2 dragons… they immediately changed shape and began to swirl around with Georges, and Irtak was wondering if he was dreaming or if it was another process in his discovery… he was feeling as if he was dancing as the man-Georges. His body just started moving following the movements of Georges and they were just one.

The hydroplane was flying over the “Sarcastic Sea” in the Bermuda Triangle. Anita was not afraid, her parents had told her about the triangle and the different legends of people disappearing or reappearing there, but instead of being afraid she was a bit excited. She didn’t tell her parents though because it was not officially acceptable, at least she could understand that. Her only friends was a lynx and a rabbit coming often to visit her and play with her. She could see them since the beginning, and at times there were an owl and a goat coming along with them. Her parents wouldn’t believe such thing, but she was 5 and it was acceptable.

They had told her the trip will be OK. There will be some surprising event of which they hadn’t wanted to tell her. It was a surprise of sort, and they told her she will create it in the right time. Nothing to fear, because they would be with her. Anita trusted them with her life, they were always kind and fun. And the rabbit had at times the energy of a panda, and she was quite fond of panda too. She had this secret desire to be a panda herself

She closed her eyes, how would that surprise be manifested? If she was the one creating it, could she know in advance? But it would not be a surprise anymore… and she loved surprises so she won’t try. She just let her inner world open and continued her discussion with her friends. She noticed a yellow butterfly approaching, he was bright and quite funny, flying around like that. It was flying around her head and coming back and forth… and then suddenly kissed her on her nose, she giggled of pleasure, it was so funny, their friends were playing around her in her inner landscape, and all was wonderful.

Aaron was trying to call the control tower of their destination… it’s been a few minutes since the last contact and he was beginning to worry. No need to worry, he thought, though he couldn’t really trust it. He didn’t want to make his wife and his daughter worry for that. It was planned to be a beautiful trip from Miami to the New Lunacy Park in the Bermuda Triangle… an island created by men. And he had lost contact with them…

Dory’s stopover at Heathrow airport was longer than expected, due to the knock on effect of delays caused by the air traffic controllers strike in Paris. She bought coffee in a paper cup and went and sat in the cramped smoking room. A couple of middle aged overweight women were sitting opposite her, their chubby knees almost touching Dory’s in the unpleasant little nicotine yellow room.

Dory couldn’t help but listen to their conversation, and had to bite her lip on several occasions to prevent herself interjecting questions. Dory wanted to ask where this Tikfijikoo Island was. There was something about the sound of it that caught her attention, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on the strange feeling it gave her to hear the name.

The two women, who appeared to be named Shah and Glaw, were apparently on their way to an island to participate in some kind of experimental treatment, Dory gathered, organized by a Dr Bronklehampton. On hearing the name of the doctor, Dory had a series of images flit through her mind. One of them was of an impish looking redhead with an incredibly large head, doing the tango.

When the two plump ladies left the smoking room, Dory followed them. They bought magazines in the airport shop, and boiled sweets ‘in case their ears went’, and deliberated over sunscreen lotion, and then after some inaudible whispering, in which Dory heard only the words ‘treatment’ and ‘skin’, apparently decided against purchasing any of the skin care products.

Dory followed them into the public lavatories, and learned that ‘our Mavis’ would be joining them for the treatment, and listened to a great deal of rather unkind comments about ‘our Fred’ and his bullying ways. On the way out of the Ladies Room, the bleached blonde named Shah collided with a bag lady, at which point Dory saw a shower of bright blue sparks in her peripheral vision. The bag lady looked up and laughed at Shah and her friend and said ‘It matters not, my friend….HA! HA! HA!’, and winked at Dory as she shuffled past.

Dory followed the ladies to the baggage check-in desk. Yukailli Airlines. Dory had never heard of it; new airlines starting up all the time, she thought, and such silly names, like that Be My Baby one…what a daft name for an airline. Dory sauntered past, as she couldn’t really stand behind them without arousing suspicion. She was momentarily swallowed up in a swarm of Italians, there must have been two coachloads of them. By the time they’d passed her, Dory had made a decision. She would book a ticket to Tikfijikoo, hopefully on the same plane as Shah and Glaw.

She turned around briskly, fleetingly wondering what to say to Dan and Becky about her sudden change of plans, and made her way back to the Yukailli Airlines desk.

That’s funny, she said out loud, It was right here!

She scanned the names above the row of desks….British Airways, Monarch, Air France, Qantas…..but no Yukailli Airlines. Dory asked at the Airport Information desk.

I’m sorry madam, there’s no airline of that name here, the young man behind the desk informed her, looking at her quizzically.

Dory opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, and wondered for a moment if she had imagined it. Just then someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to spin round. It was the bag lady she’d seen earlier in the Ladies room.

Leaving at Gate 57 and three quarters, the bag lady whispered, and winked conspiratorily.

Dory’s mouth fell open. She was about to say Oh now really, what is this, Harry Potter Airport? but something stopped her. Instead she asked, But what about tickets and baggage check? But the bag lady had gone.

Joe indicated left and pulled off the motorway.

Fancy a cuppa, ‘arry? he asked his long faced companion.

Arr, ok, Joe, may as well. Harry sighed. I just dunno what to make of it, y’know.

Me either, ‘arry. What the devil got into ‘em? Buggering off like that! He shook his head sadly. I ‘opes they’ll be orlright.

Joe pulled into the motorway service station and parked his car carefully between the white lines. I fancies me a plate of chips and egg, he said.

Arr, me too, Joe, said Harry.

~~
Harry wiped the egg and ketchup off his plate with the remains of a slice of buttered white bread and said, Our Fred says our Mavis is off, an’ all.

Our Mavis? Blimey, ‘arry, not our Mavis an’ all. Joe tutted, and noisily slurped his tea.
I wish, he said passionately, I wish I’d never bought that bloody computer, I knew nothing good would come of it. Perverts and bloody foreignors, the bloody lot of ‘em. What’s wrong with a nice pint of best bitter down at the Duck, eh? And a nice game of darts, eh?

Or dominoes, added Harry.

Arr, dominoes an’ all, agreed Joe.

~~
A cuppa just i’n‘t the same without a fag is it, grumbled Joe.

It i’n‘t, agreed Harry. I just don’t understand it, what’s our Sha’ need an ‘ealth farm for?

‘Ealth farm? Our Gloria never said nuffink about an ‘ealth farm, ‘arry.

okay serious synchs now as you guys have clearly lost the plot. Plot? hmmmm, silly me, I thought there was a plot.

Last night I had a LOVELY dream I gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl and we were so happy and I was so proud of myself.

Yesterday, across the road in the park all these cars gathered, funny racing cars, old ones, for some big racing event or other. I was wandering around with a friend, who is more into cars than me, and a bit bored so started thinking of the story. I looked up and on a little yellow car the number plate said “Flynn Hi”. Of course this must be Tracy I thought because she has said several times now she likes the name Finn, and then she always adds “and the name Flynn”. Then I looked and saw another number plate and it was ‘TTTTTT”

Sam kissed Tina… a French kiss as usual. She had always love his way of kissing and as with the shift this kind mark of affection wasn’t much considered as belonging to bonded couples, Sam who loved kissing was really having a lot of fun.

He didn’t do that with everybody though, it had to come harmoniously, and with Tina it was always sparklingly funnily attractive.

She told him she loved the little pooh on his neck, and as he was explaining her it was a just burnt phoenix, the bird just rebirthed himself again in an atomic blow… the effects on Sam’s skin was a bit weird, flowing shadows and shades of greys and greens making him appear like a for a few seconds.

Sean arrived in a bang at that moment, and Sam kissed him on the forehead… no mischievous kiss with him, his energy was directed subtly to another member of the T’mmm.

Adding his own playful energy to this Fairy Nuffy event, he went to talk with Tina and Al about Tina’s new nails cut.

Becky yawned and blinked. What a dream she’d had, full of babies! And they had all been squalling and crying at once, making her head spin and deafening her

Well, only a dream she said, and went to make coffee. Whilst eating her breakfast a little later that afternoon (she had overslept well past noon), she perused the Reality Times newspaper. There was a big advertisement for the forthcoming opening of the new T.R.A.P. Amusement Park and it reminded her that Sean would be arriving soon from Dublin.

Unaware of any association with her thoughts about Sean, Becky picked up her telephone and booked an appointment for a haircut.

Sam was feeling better now… He eventually accepted to drink Becky’s mixture and eat some rice, but he insisted on putting some curry in it.

After that they went out for a tour in gondola, they were to meet Al and Tina in the CP of Central Park.