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  • #2505

    In reply to: Strings of Nines


    Yann was excited, he just had a mail from the cattery “The Laughing Cats” telling him they would send him pictures of the new litter. The little kittens had just opened their eyes and apparently they were very cute.

    When they went to that cat exhibition with Ewrick in March, Yann thought it was just to meet a friend of his who was a cat breeder himself, and they actually met him. His cat was gorgeous and seemed so comfortable that you could have thought he had been drugged. Yann’s friend told them he was always like a big stuffed toy.

    They chatted a bit and Ewrick and Yann wandered about to have a look at the other cats, and that’s when Yann saw the Abyssinian cats of the Carnelian cattery. The cats were solar and majestic, their cinnamon coat were stealing Yann’s heart. He knew he would get one… soon.

    After a few weeks looking on the Internet at the different catteries, the different websites about this particular race, Yann decided to take his phone and make a call. He’d selected a few numbers and decided to just have another look on the net and found the Laughing Cat cattery, they got new kittens since a few days only and there was one of them whose coat was cinnamon. It seemed it was the perfect one, so Yann called that cattery first and the guy told him there were no call for this one color yet though he had many calls from Russian or other European breeders for the others…

    Yann asked if they already had pictures but apparently the kittens had still their eyes closed and he was waiting a bit to take pictures… “they looks like rats you know”… no matter, he’d wait.

    And they had opened their eyes now, he’d get pictures very soon now.


    “I just had the strangest dream, Rob” Jane said to her husband. “About a future probability, but it was really kind of silly.”

    “What was it about?” he asked, leaning over the kitchen table to turn down the volume of the radio. Leon Russel’s new Back To The Island was playing, the waves rolling onto the shore mingled with the trucks thundering past on the busy road outside.

    “Well, I’m pretty sure it was in the future, around 2009, and the kids were creating having a day off from school by throwing a peanut at the school building.”

    Rob smiled at his wife, shaking his head.

    “The class of ’75 today,” Jane continued, “Create a day off school by making a prank bomb scare phone call, but those kids in the future just threw a peanut at the place!”

    “You sure do explore some far out probabilities, honey.”


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


    The clear young voice was unmistakable.

    Hey, Chiara, comment ça va?

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

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


    Jacques Schitt and Frank Diddley Squat were time-travelling artemesium absinthium salesmen. Diddley Squat had not returned from his last trip, and Jacques had just been informed that Frank’s phone was being answered by an imposter. The Absinthium Pirates has been unusually active of late, and Jacques was concerned.

    The Time Travelling Absinthe Pirates were bright green in colour, and were often mistaken for aliens, depending on the timeframe they were visiting.


    Monica del Apio couldn’t understand why he kept telling her she had the wrong number. Frank Diddly-Squat had had the same phone number for years, but for the past two days, he ~ or someone using his phone ~ was refusing to admit to any knowledge of Frank.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Why not?


    Jobson Batt and Ernie Young were taking a vacation in between so called natural disasters, as the financial disaster claimed the populations attention. They knew that the result of the energy being pushed from pillar to post as everyone fretted and worried about the monetary system would manifest in some natural disasters, and they knew they would have their work cut out as highly skilled members of the DDT team (otherwise known as Disaster Damage Team) in due course. Meanwhile, they had the foresight to take a well earned break while the attention of the population was otherwise engaged.

    Unable to settle on just one destination, they opted for a World Cruise.


    Evangeline Spiggot slammed the telephone down. Another call from someone wanting that other DDT company, Dead Dick Tracy Productions. Business was slow at Disaster Damage Team, with Jobson and Ernie on holiday, but Evangeline was left holding the fort, just in case a major disaster came in, in which case she would inform Jobson and Ernie on their cruise ship. It was boring sitting there alone in the office though, and Evangeline decided that the next wrong number she answered, she would pretend to be Dead Dick Tracy, just for a laugh.


    Tina!” At last Tina answered the phone. “Oh Tina, I’ve been trying to reach you all day! There’s something going on with Al and SamBecky blurted without so much as a How Doo Yoo Doo.

    “What now?” asked Tina sleepily. “You woke me up, you know, I hope this is important.”

    “They’re making funny tea, I’m sure of it” Becky replied. “Have you seen the latest entries they’ve made to the play?”

    “I just told you Becky, I just woke up. I seriously doubt that anything in that play would surprise me, though. And so what if they’re drinking ‘funny tea’ anyway? Look who’s blimmen talking, Becky!”

    “Precisely, my point exactly! They’re not sharing it! I want some too, don’t you?”

    “Not really, Becky. I would quite like to go back to sleep though” Tina replied. “Why don’t you focus on your own entries to the play?”

    “Oof, er pffoott” spluttered Becky. “Good pooint, Poubelle. Soorry I wooke yoou!”


    In reply to: Synchronicity


    A synch worth noting:

    A few minutes or hours after I had written this comment T.P. came back online and she told be that

    • she had received a phone call earlier in the morning from a Yolanda who had repeated twice her name, like it was something important
    • While she was driving with her guest, she mentioned loons (birds looking like ducks) and they discussed yodeling (loons have a cry similar to these sounds)

    “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, BeaLeo 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.


    “See you on Saturday then, Barb, hasta luego!” Bea said, hanging up the phone. “Baked Bean Barb wants to bring a few friends to the Day of the Dead party, Leo, I said it was ok”. Turning to Leonora, who was hunched over the computer. she asked “Ok with you?”


    “I said…”

    “Friends of Baked Bean Barb? Have you ever met any of them?”

    “One or two, yes,” replied Bea “They were quite a colourful bunch, I thought”

    “Colourful!” Leo nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. “They’re colourful alright! Smelly too, most of them”

    “Oh don’t be such a snob, Leo! You’d be smelly too if you lived in a car.”

    “Good job the party’s going to be outside, that’s all I can say. Anyway Bea, have a look at this” Leo turned back to the computer. “This Reality Play thing I’m subscribed to, they’re spitting out new entries left and right this afternoon, I can hardly keep up with it”

    “Shove over then, let’s ‘ave a look”


    a hotel room in Auckland, New Zealand

    Veranassesee closed her report silently.

    What a mess it all had been. Given the circumstances, she had acted with unbelievable self-possessed strength and wit.
    She had little doubt she would be fired though. The Confregation wasn’t exactly known for their blanket acceptance of excuses for people’s short-failures —or worse, for their lack of accepting their own responsibility. Quite the contrary.
    She would be expected to resign, and even the smoldering hot and sexy Agent Gabriele’s intercession wouldn’t be seen with a complaisant eye.

    “No matter…” She had managed to keep everyone she could out of trouble or certain death, and for that she was quite proud of herself. Even if her job was most of the time to actually make sure they would meet their death more quickly. Perhaps she was getting too soft for that job.

    The phone rang abruptly cutting her off her trail of thoughts.

    “Yes?” (…) “Mmmhhh mmmh” (…) “Okay. Fine. Thank you.”

    She would be presenting her report’s conclusions at the hearing tomorrow, and then would be free to go. Start a new life maybe; or get back to Mahiliki who was for now confined with the aircraft’s pilot in one of the Confregation’s detention centers for interrogation. They’d say it wouldn’t be long; they wanted to make sure no crucial information had leaked.
    She couldn’t really pity Mahiliki; he was cute… harmless in many ways; she was sure he would be out in a matter of days,… and unsurprisingly get back to his peasant’s life on Fikitupi.

    As for herself… that may be a whole other story.


    “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?”


    When Balbina woke up from that which had been her longest and strangest projection out of her body ever, all the memories of this fantastic adventure were oddly still fresh and crystal clear in her mind.

    She doubted that it may have been as real as she has perceived it to be; but the funny rabbit, before they all entered the long dark tunnel, had winked at her and told her there would be signs for her.

    Outside the window, the sunlight was starting to show on the Cordillera de la Costa, the nearby mountains.
    She was feeling strangely rejuvenated by this unexpected night spent in far-away travels, and it was almost as if her whole body was feeling better than it ever was.
    But of course, it was more of the same. Fabella, the nurse would soon enter and great her with a…

    “Did Madam sleep well?”
    “Quite, yes”… Her voice was quivering. Hardly the youthful voice she had during her projections out of the body.

    So, there she was again, in that old people house, and no way out of this mis…

    “What?!” she made the nurse busy cleaning her instruments repeat —to which she was far too pleased to comply.
    “Yes, Madam, your son phoned this morning and told he would come for you…”

    Her son? That was most unexpected.

    What did the rabbit said already? Help would come from the most unexpected corners… Well, she had almost forgotten that this corner still existed!

    “Did he say something else?”
    “Oh, I’m not really allowed to tell, M’am…”
    “But of course, you can’t really resist (little goose)” simpered the old wincing lady in a whisper to herself.
    Fabella was indeed continuing, unstoppable “… but he seems to consider it’s too expensive to have you here, and would love to have you home with him”

    Well, of course, you can’t really expect him to be so generous for no reason Balbina was thinking… But anything would probably be better than this old fools’ home. Even her son’s home.

    Besides, it was located outside Caracas, near the mountains… And if the funny rabbit’s directions were correct, it was very, very close from where her hosts (provided they existed of course) were to re-emerge.

    She’d never imagined that falling into the abyss of sweet madness would be so exciting.


    With the winter coming so fast (no more season you see), Dory was busy tidying her patio waiting for the next plane to Long Pong.
    All the dusty trinkets and the artworks she had brought back from her different excavations; she had to put them into some shelter, just in case. Last week the temperature had plummeted so quickly. She had to take the warm clothes out of the closets and realized she also had to change some of them in the process. Some unfriendly moth had eaten the wool of her favorite sweater…
    She was feeling dull and empty. Almost like she had no more purpose. Doing that cleaning and tidying was a way of distracting herself from that impression, she knew it would pass.
    Since the departure of her friends, Yann and Yurick, she had felt a bit lonely, even with Dan being present.
    She lacked a new excavation project, one that would fill in her blood with excitement and passion.

    An odd thought made her shudder. For a moment she had considered the idea of having a baby.

    — “No!”
    Really, she should find something worthy of her unlimited energy and not something that would chain her in habits and force her attention outside of her. Though, she seemed quite short of energy lately… However, it was not the time, not the place… and merely not the life for it.

    She wondered : what were her friends doing?
    Yann and Yurick were most probably preparing their new book, and Finn had told her last time that she was on the verge of adopting a baby Orangatun“she would need spare jungle in her garden”, she chuckled at the sudden vision of Finn gardening her jungle… Well at least it would give her a good distraction.

    She stopped her tidying and came back inside the house. Where was the wireless phone again? Apparently everything was a mess… she’d have to rethink the “no” she had given Dan last time he had asked her if she needed a butler.

    Oh! under her former favorite sweater, of course! She took the phone and composed Finn’s number. Maybe she would extend her trip from Long Pong to New Zealand…


    Serendib Facility, Sri Lanka ~ (2036)

    Becky had been strangely shaken when she saw appearing in the last word cloud “dead becky” in huge letters.
    Surely she was not scared by death, as dead was only a different term for a different life, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to croak so young!

    Perhaps she died in childbirth; after all, it wouldn’t be so surprising because then the Serendib Facility looked very much like an eerie transitioning place. She tried to remember… When was the last time people had surprised her; done something unexpected, something she couldn’t have calculated. She thought Tina perhaps… Well, on the holographic visiophone, Becky had seen her with utmost details rolling her eyes, thrice even, at the mention of the ménage à trois… But of course,… that hardly counted as a surprise.

    She was starting to freak out. Gayesh! GAYESH! she called out running in the corridors of the facility barely managing to get a bewildered look from the nurses apparently now accustomed to her antics.

    A few moments later, she was comfortably seated in Gayesh’s office, with a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Aaaah, she loved that scent, the warmth that goes right to her heart. She felt comforted. At least if she was dead, the coffee seemed real enough.

    Gayesh had taken an undecipherable look once she had told him of her… premonition. She intuitively felt that there was something he wasn’t telling.

    She almost gurgled her last coffee sip uttering to the doctor “If I’m dead, then spit it now!”

    The laugh from Gayesh came as a surprise to her. “Ahaha,” she couldn’t help but notice, “a surprise !”

    Looking straight into her eyes, he told her “Well, perhaps your premonition has some deep meaning Becky dear, but you look quite alive to me, and with a constitution like yours, likely to live till 157 years old, if you ask me.”

    Becky was greatly relieved, even though she still had the hunch that the mysterious handsome doctor wasn’t telling her all the truth. “I think that idle life is making me insane… I need to see some real dusty rocky stuff; all those projections won’t do for the rest of my life. All the more since I’m supposed to live that long!”

    Gayesh was looking more and more preoccupied.

    “What is it, dear?” Becky asked, starting to feel the pangs of angst coming back at her. (she whispered to herself some of her favourite mantras: stand behind the short wall, breathe, breathe, yes, YES, it’s not your energy…)

    “You see Becky dear,” Gayesh answered after a minute of silence, “there is still some issue with the cloning process; until we find some advanced way of doing it, the clones need some of your cells regularly to be kept in good health, otherwise, I can’t really promise Becky Tooh (that was how the clone#2 was nicknamed) a life as good as yours. That’s why I’m a bit reluctant at letting you go on some errands…”

    Well, if she’d wanted some surprise to see that she was alive, there she got more than enough, Becky thought.


    no network?!
    but what kind of cave it is? grumbled the voice again.
    Can’t possibly write such a funny (and long) comment on a cellphone anyway…


    Orgetak was fond of taking a crocodile as an animal essence.
    He was coming from a fragmentation of some big names of Essence Land, and he shared many connections with lots of other “essences siblings”. In that moment, he was having fun observing Rafaela… though he was having a weird sense of wanting to merge more thoroughly with her… perhaps that crocodile disguise was cloaking his judgment… He wasn’t too sure.

    He had focused recently, to catch up with one of Rafaela’s own focuses, a rather famous one, whose genetic pool was a magical blend which would be spread in many new enticing physical probabilities. In a haste, despite of no time by which to measure it, he had created himself a past of an Sri Lankan geneticist named Dr. Gayesh Sitharaya, whose interest (or intent) dwelt in exploring the multiplicity of one individual’s aspects…


    What’s the catch then?
    What do you mean Al?
    Oh, come on Tinipooh, you know there’s always a catch… Surely Becky mentioned that on the phone…
    Ahaha, are we speaking of the same Becky? :yahoo_rolling_eyes:
    Well, why would that guy help her anyway. And I’m not really sure having another her on the loose is of any help for that matter :yahoo_hypnotized: Sounds more like a world domination plan to me… :yahoo_dontwannasee:
    Well, you know Becky, always blissfully jumping in the stream, even if it’s full of piranhas. It’s good she even thought of giving us a call…
    Yeah, too bad our thought reading techniques seem to get less and less reliable these days…


    Is something bothering you Franiel? You look a bit perturbed.Phoebe was watching him intently.

    Oh sorry, yeah, I was just thinking about Aum Geog. I really should have sent him a message, you know about losing the chalice.

    Phoebe looked thoughtful. Well we could send a message via one of the Fincheons if it would set your conscience at ease.

    Fincheons? Those are those really beautiful silver birds aren’t they?

    That’s right, they are spectacular aren’t they! I have a pair I use for sending messages on occasion.

    Oh great! Franiel looked immensely relieved. I will go and write a note to him them. He won’t be happy though, I am fairly certain of that.

    Although … silly me. Would you like to use the phone to call him? It would be much quicker. Honestly sometimes I think I am living in the dark ages, not 2008! chuckled Phoebe merrily.

    Franiel laughed with her. Oh I know just what you mean!

    Oh by the way, said Phoebe, there’s a motorbike in the garage. It hasn’t been used for years, but if you can get it going, you are most welcome to use it.


    Hello, Tina? It’s me, Becky. I need to talk to you! No, not over the phone, can you meet me for coffee?

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