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  • #2596

    In reply to: Strings of Nines

    As we have stated previously, these terms are quite limiting for explanation purposes. The terminology is not incorrect, by any means. It is only expressing a much, much smaller impression to you than, in actuality, these terms represent. If your interpretation of these terms is too literal, you may find yourself accepting concepts which have only been explained to you partially; for our explanation of concepts is only a minute portion of the entirety of any idea, or concept, or “doctrine.” Only playing, my friend! These concepts must be taken in at this present time, within your present understanding, to the intellect; and the intellect must be allowed to trigger the intuition, allowing a full circle of thought, so to speak; this full circle being a continuous flow of information to assimilation, to actualization, to creation ” — Patel

    Not AGAIN!! shouted Becky. For the past week every time she tried to open her blog page, it always opened on this old post of Patels. Usually, by a circuitous route, she did eventually manage to arrive on her most recent post…..but not today! That monkey Patel wouldn’t let Becky look at any other post but this.

    Funny coincidence really that she’d watched the cartoon last night called Madagascar, starrring Patel himself as King of the Lemurs. Becky had to laugh. A rave party of dancing lemurs on ecstasy!

    “Good Lord!” exclaimed Yoland. “Fancy landing on that Patel quote again today!”

    :yahoo_surprise:

    Yoland knew Patel was around when the frying sausages had popped and spit fat at her. She had lost count of the amount of times that Patel had popped in with this quote. More strings and circles….and lemurs, too! At the lunch party the previous day, Yoland had been discussing evolution, and the missing link, and the next day a lemur-like skeleton was being heralded in the newspapers as the missing link.

    Patel, as the missing link ~ Yoland had to laugh.

    :yahoo_laughing:

    #2552

    In reply to: Strings of Nines

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Godfrey, she’s doing it on purpose now, what am I going to do with her?”

      Godfrey turned and frowned at Ann, pausing in the doorway. “Who’s doing what, Ann?” he sighed.

      “Oh never mind Godfrey, bugger off if you can’t be bothered” Ann said crossly, and then added “You know exactly what I’m talking about, it’s Franlise, she’s making spelling mistakes on purpose and I’ll get the blame!”

      “Ann,” said Godfrey with exaggerated patience, “You of all people should be the last person to worry about a spelling mistake.”

      “My OWN spelling mistakes are acceptable, Godfrey, they contain clues…”

      Pig Littleton raised an eyebrow. “And why wouldn’t Franlise’s contain clues too? Have you forgotten that you’re the one creating Franlise in the first place?”

      “Oh” said Ann, momentatily non-plussed.

      #2504

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      The smell of the incense was giving her a sense of comfort and was helping her unfocus her attention in order to let the trance occur. She was one of the Seers of the Crimson Feather Order and when she was in a trance, the Goddess was speaking through her for those priests or priestesses who were seeking directions.

      The Seers usually had no memories of what was happening when they were speaking for the Goddess and they were usually coupled with a Witness so the message would not be altered by the requester to best suit his or her desire. Depending on the clarity of the message, a period of evaluation and interpretation could be necessary and in case of official communications it was then forwarded to every temple.

      Though in certain occasions the Witness could be missing as it was the case today. The archbishop Boorla had requested a meeting with no Witness, and in such cases the value of the information was only considered of personal nature. He was late, and she could put off the meeting if she wanted to, but a faint feeling was suggesting her to wait a bit longer.

      When he entered a few minutes later, introduced by her usual Witness, he seemed furious and having great difficulties containing his anger. He was a red long-haired cat and his collar was particularly imposing in such moments. She had to focus on herself and not let his irritation make her loose her balance for the trance. As the Witness left the room, she took a deep breath and purred gently as she began the ritual. The Requester had to keep silence until being invited to do ask their question and she needed some time to calm him.

      She felt at first his irritation grow as she was purposefully delaying the beginning of the trance, but he couldn’t resist longer the soothing purr of the Seer, and as she asked the ritual question, she felt her consciousness fading out.

      :fleuron:

      When she came out of trance, she was feeling sick, the delivery of the message had been interrupted and though he was silent she could feel the fury of the archbishop flowing like waves. Apparently the message didn’t please him at all, and he barely spoke the ending ritual Thanks to the Goddess before he left the room hissing.

      Though she was feeling tired and would need some rest, she couldn’t help wondering what had happen.

      #2502

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      He was silently waiting, standing on a branch of a big bingahloo tree on the edge of the village of Duur Mistar. He was one of the Scouts of Dhja and his duty was to travel through the realm of Amstar (pronounced [Am i shtar’]) and report back to the Queen any event usual or unusual. The Scouts were gifted with a special talent and they were trained since childhood to develop it and use it for the good of Dhja. They could read energy and notice the slightest change in any manifestation before it became physically manifest. Because of that, they were revered and feared by many.

      In the realm of Amstar, the People of Dhja was feline and the different tribes were presenting as many differences as the races of our own felines. From the tribe of the Solar Bear was Dhurga, his fur was medium-length and cinnamon, similar to that of Abyssinian cats. He was slender and his movements graceful, one would barely notice his presence at that moment, as Scouts were able to manipulate their energy and adjust it according to their purpose, and he was here to observe and not to interfere.

      He had felt a call for a few weeks. It was barely noticeable first and there were many possibilities to translate this. It could have been because of the small amount of energy, or it could have been because it was quite far from were he was at that moment. The later was more accurate and he had to travel many days before he could pinpoint a more precise direction and point in space and time.

      Along with the ability to read energy was a constant conscious connection with any other Scout. They had no secret among their kin and neither was it necessary nor would it have been possible easily. He had checked with the other Scouts if they had felt the call also, but apparently very few of them were feeling it and fewer were interpreting it as a call. He’d been the first one to arrive at Duur Mistar, apparently the originating place of the call and he’d been waiting for the others since. They were not far away and there hadn’t been any change in the quality or in the intensity of the vibration, but there were signs that it could soon occur.

      #2177

      In reply to: Closing up

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Started a new thread, so that people who weren’t comfortable re-using our previous characters can use it for that purpose, as there were quite a few synchs with the stories at the Kryon event in Madrid — the mad doctor and the beauty treatments (he even did some dancing in a sort of leotard that might have been as close as a tutu as he could allow himself to wear ahahah), magpies sightings, the translator was named Roger, there was a lady named Peggy (probably her real name was T’Eggy) and we managed to have Geoffidoo say “watermelon” (we’re expecting Tobidoo to do the same at the next monthly event)… and also met Pedro the Universe

        #1249

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

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

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

        #1183

        Inside the cave Malvina was considering to move again.

        She couldn’t help but giggle softly at the thought of Arona fulminating at how restless that dragon of hers was. To tell the truth, she was one of high restlessness too. And her dragon, and his offspring were most of the time merely resonating to her high energy. Otherwise, they would be too happy to be left alone to dream in a corner of a cave glowing of glukenitch lights.

        Now, she had to wait for Leormn’s return from his little vacation to be able to move swiftly. Granted she could do it alone, but it would be so tedious, with all those eggs hidden in various places. Perhaps she could do with a little vacationing herself. She was thinking, Georges and Salome would be certainly glad to take care of the cave in her absence, and of her guests.

        She would go see them; she loved the little Ugling who was growing so fast he would now run in many places and ask funny questions. Vincentius (with the grumpy cat perched on his large shoulders out of reach from the bullying little one) was teaching him lots of things on the vegetation (mostly fungus and lichens inside) and on geology that the boy was eager to learn, with an unmistakable affinity for rocks though. He would be quick to learn how to summon the rock’s consciousness for many purposes.

        She almost got lost in the tunnels again. “Someone should get those indications straight, dammit!” she swore as she entered a dead-end. A few turns right, and another left, and she was in front of the painted wall with the ‘PEACE OFF’ painted door. So that’s where they went… the door was visibly shut now…
        A nearby snort suddenly caught her attention.

        Buckberry? What are you doing here little precious; hasn’t Arona taken you with her? Well, silly me, obviously not.” She added, seeing the floor covered with crushed buckberries juice. “Awww, you don’t even have the appetite for your cherished buckberries…”

        Malvina knew of course that it wasn’t the closed door that kept Buckberry here, as he most probably could go wherever Arona was, if she summoned him properly, but it was rather the fact she had left without notice. Malvina laughed heartily “Aahaha, don’t be soft Buckie, she’s probably been tricked by your daddie and your little buggers of brothers, but she’ll come back…”

        #1179

        Phoebe was sweating a lot.
        Apparently, her dream activity was very intense and the conditions of her guestly detention was quite harsh. A wooden board as a bed, and one of the scratchy kind of blanket, not even a nice color… quite indescribable, actually. But for now, she wouldn’t have time to think about it. Her feverish look and behavior would make them think she was in a bad shape, but it was quite purposeful. Even if they had removed all her trinkets and jewelry, obviously thinking that they were the ones giving her her abilities, she had more tricks in her pocket.
        She was looking for something, something that should be in this dimension now. She wasn’t sure where, though and she needed it before they arrived at their destination. Leaving her body and the submarine, she had been aware of some unusual activity around in the ocean. Maybe whales, but they were acting differently the last time she paid a visit to this dimension, and something didn’t seem right. Maybe she could find it out later. She had more pressing things to attend to.

        #1153

        “Don’t you think time is ripe, Ratirat?” Angela asked, turning to her friend Seth, the brown furred mouse.
        “None of us are ever equipped, for general purposes, to perceive reality in all of its forms.” Seth started in a squeaky voice.

        “That’s interesting” nodded Angela, though she would have been in trouble had anyone asked her to explain what she just heard.

        Seth continued in his unnerving high-pitched voice “The pyramid gestalts can do this, and we help the pyramid gestalts perform this feat.”

        “I second that” said Freako the black and white ferret.
        “Bloody good point!” Weirdy, the damsel weasel managed to say among the growing cacophony.

        “Don’t be zilly… I don’t zink people outzide of this zoo are ready for us” snapped Joppy the baby pygmy hippo.

        “Zwines!” grumbled Angela, innocently mocking Jobby’s strange accent.

        #1123

        Upon hearing Malvina’s thoughts, Arona smiled to herself.

        If only she knew the truth!

        ( If I put big spaces in-between, it will make it look as though I have written more, decided Tina rather cleverly, still feeling a bit creatively uninspired.)

        Tempted though she was, Arona knew she must not give anything away. It was easier to stay in character if she did not allow herself to remember too often, at least until this cave mission was complete. Occasionally she allowed herself the luxury of remembering, yet to do so was to feel a yearning for home.

        It was a pity about the outfit of course, the mouldy cloak…

        ( hmmm was it mouldy though or just a bit on the musty side? )

        … which the Oddlings had decided she would wear for much of this assignment was not her favourite look. Even though she had managed eventually to lose it in the darkness of the cave, her current clothes were now almost in tatters. Arona sighed wistfully, remembering the beautiful silks, chiffons and organzas some of her previous assignments.

        Moments later she brightened again thinking of Vincentius and her other friends.

        There were certainly compensations, she decided philosophically.

        Arona was a little concerned about the meddling of Malvina and the others, although of course she realised they were doing it with the best of intentions to fulfill their own purposes. Arona understood all this, and sometimes regretted she could not tell them who she really was. The powerful thought shields she had been trained in by the Oddlings meant that her disguise had not so far been penetrated.

        Yet she hated to deceive.

        Not to worry. For now she must just focus on the completion of her own mission here.

        She called to Buckberry softly in her thoughts and felt a little thrill of excitement when she heard his response. She knew she would have need of the little dragon for the task which lay ahead.

        #1114

        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.

        :fleuron:

        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.

        #1112

        The island had never felt as populated as these past hours. Veranassesee didn’t know really which way to turn, really.

        “Gather your wits, V” she told herself.

        Obviously, it was a bit difficult, she had a terrible time to concentrate. The past few hours felt like they were stretching on forever in time, for no reason at all?

        Take that mmm… wanton memory of the night with Agent Gabriele ; it was still fresh on her mind, and yet, she could hardly tell whether Gabriele was still around in his bungalow, or whether he had left… Feelings of guilt on her part perhaps. Well, it had taken her no less than forty pages… what was she saying? It had taken her no less than forty minutes to come back to him and fall with blissful abandon in his hairy manly arms, and that could as well have been happening two, three months ago for all matter and purpose.

        Perhaps that was the work of evil aliens tampering with her mind and memories. Hardly an excuse, she had been trained for far worse occurrences. She had to list her priorities.
        Gabriele.
        Well, her mission of course. What were you thinking? Now that plan B seemed to have failed miserably, Operation Spider seemed likely to be a total fiasco.
        She had apparently lost the item in a purple blood trail, and there was that fishy Jarvis she had to take care of too.
        But somehow, if she could get that item back, perhaps she could redeem herself. Or else, dreary Fukitupi and Mahiliki would be waiting for her. Hardly a consolation.

        Of course, as if to add to the total disarray of her plans and desire to have things neatly organized, the Higloshama gang (that’s how she liked to call the three atomic divas — Mavis, Sharon and Gloria) had once again disappeared from their pods, probably to gaze at the moon in-between a few cyclones… Well, in any case, they would find a way to get back. If pigeons do, why not them?

        As for the other patients, the door was closed, and they probably were asleep. Oh, and in any case, ugly-faced as they were, they probably couldn’t get far without triggering a trail of fear howling. She had to admit, she was sourer than usual. Anyway… down the list of problems.

        Ah, the doctor of course. Well, he could go to hell, but that would be doing her too big a favour.

        The sound of the plane coming to the island drew her out of her calculations. As she was adjusting her holster to greet the untimely airborne visitors, she sent a brief mental note as a leitmotiv to herself so that she wouldn’t forget “find the bee-man, Jarvis, Jarvis, Jarvis…”

        And she did right.
        She almost lost her composure when she recognized Mahiliki on the plane.

        #1111
        Jib
        Participant

          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…

          #983

          Madame Chesterhope went to the garage, to get one of her preferred modes of transportation.
          She had dressed for the occasion in black leather, shouting a spell in a hurry to the mirror which had been flippantly reflecting back at her some awfully podgy image. Voodoo mirrors weren’t the quality they used to be these days. Bloody buggers of Goblinkeas manufactors… She would have a word with them soon.

          There it was. A shiny Farley Travinston motorbike.
          With some magical modifications, of course, but it had retained overall form and purpose closely similar to the original design. How she loved those machines! She had started to gather them for centuries (in Earth way of counting time), and she could still remember her very first one, the wreck it was compared to this one
          Of course, she had no use for them, but wasn’t that the point of decadent treasure piling up?

          All geared up, she hopped on the seat, and started the trans-dimensional engine. Where was it already? Pacific island… That could sound like vacations she smiled to herself…

          #945
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Becky visited the nursery at The Facility every day, and smiled vaguely at the triplets, relieved that they were thriving and being well cared for. She had spent several happy hours ordering a new wardrobe online, charging it all to The Facility, whose staff were being wonderfully kind and accomodating. She spent the days reading historical novels, lounging on the recliners on the numerous patios and balconies, or strolling through the colourful leafy gardens, or floating in the cool lotus filled pools, without a care in the world.

            The past few months had been draining, exhausting. The unexpected break from everything that was familiar was doing her a power of good.

            One hot still afternoon, Gayesh, the director of the facility, called her into his large airy office. The antique ceiling fan ruffled the papers on his desk. The papers were part of the antique decor, giving the room a nostalgic 20th century air.

            Becky, we have been observing you while you’ve been staying with us, Gayesh said kindly. And we would like to make you an offer.

            Observing me? asked Becky, feeling a trifle violated.

            Oh, you know, at the essence level, dear, replied Gayesh, with a gentle smile. Your essence did agree, we couldn’t be intrusive, of course, as you know.

            Oh well, if my essence agreed that’s ok I guess, answered Becky, mollified. What’s your offer?

            Gayesh explained at length the purpose of the Facility, while Becky yawned and studied her new shoes, her mind wandering…

            …….and so, in a nutshell, Gayesh was saying, If you give us permission, we can send a cloned Becky back to Galle, and the husband Sean, while you, my dear, do whatever you desire. You can be mother to the essences already lined up to manifest via your, er, the clones, body (and may I point out that none of our undercover clones so far have been uncovered, shall we say), which will facilitate….Gayesh chuckled….your new found freedom! You will be a free Becky that nobody knows exists! Free to wander hither and yon, without any responsibilities…..what do you say?

            I accept your offer, sir! Becky said, jumping up to shake Gayesh’s hand.

            #790

            It had been a moonth now that Elizabeth had got her first encounter with Pigoosus, her inner inspirer, on a dirty bench of the public park littered with pigeons droppings.

            A whole moonth, and yet, it had been so full that she had barely noticed it passing. Even Finnley, the ever grunchy grumpy one, had felt ubiquitously absent (Elizabeth was quite fond of Lemone’s profoond quotes, and his consummate uooze of exquisitively bizarre words; so, “ubiquitously absent”, oxymoronic as it was, for all matter and purposes felt deliciously adequate to her present mood).
            So, yes, even Finnley… who had felt recently so deeply absorbed by flocks of dust bunnies that went around the corners.

            As for her, the grandioosa noovelist, she had used the inspiration of that day to take a break from that strange story she was writing, and which had accumulated so many loose ends that she’d grown yucky at the mere sight of a dish of spooghetti.
            Instead, she had written a small unpretentious (as far as she could, that is) novelette, or children book as her publisher said. Of course, everything a little bit out of the ordinary was only good for children, and in fact, she couldn’t care less. She had tremendoose fun writing the Extra-vagrant Illustrated Tales of The Oogletoon Twins. Not only writing in fact, but also illustrating that intermission work (which was a first, as she had mostly the habit of doing coollages of various pictures teafed around, hence her fondness for Robert the robber magpie).

            Notwithstanding, this was an interesting adventure for Elizabeth. Life was full of surprises, and she wouldn’t have thought that in becoming more “down to Oorth”, as her parents would have exhorted her to do, so to spook, she would have indeed be really, really closer to Oorth, but nonetheless, still in fairy land. Ahaha, that was putting her in the greatest of moods.
            She smiled a broad smile to a fidgeting Finnley who was under the glowing neon light of the dark copy machine room, apparently in great conversation with some invisible being, as she went past the room, on her way to her office.

            :fleuron2:

            Checking on her compooter (her gorgeous iPear) she noticed an email from Barash… Another publisher that she was considering working with, when her current one had felt hesitant at publishing her illustrated book.
            Decidedly, everything was going well for her these days.

            #769
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Hang on a minute, Sam said to the Nanaconda. I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve dealt with this bucket of dung.

              The rainbow Nanaconda raised her eyebrows (or gave the impression of that facial expression, at any rate).

              As Sam tipped the bucket out, hundreds of dung beetles scurried in every direction.

              Whoa! exclaimed Sam, taking an involuntary step backwards.

              Nanaconda sniggered in a somewhat sinister fashion and said, Ah, the Symbolic scarab beetles strike again.

              As Sam stood transfixed by the sight of the beetles running in all directions, an extraordinary thing happened. All the beetles stopped moving, as one, and then with a seemingly united purpose, they all started moving in the same direction. Within seconds a long black army of dung beetles marched off across the field.

              Sam picked up the empty bucket and followed them.

              Nanaconda followed him, grinning wickedly.

              #761

              So then, said Franiel sitting down beside a small mound of earth, what now?

              The top of the mound of earth was smoothed flat, and with a twig Franiel began to form small spiral patterns abstractedly in the earth. He felt no desire to go back to the monastery and face Aum Geog with the news of the loss.

              He held the twig high, and then released it to fall to the ground. It fell without sound, landed unharmed on the mound of earth. He closed his eyes and in the dark at the back of his mind, he heard the voice of his grandmother whisper; Spirals make more sense than crosses Franiel my boy, joys more than sorrows.

              Spirals make more sense than crosses….

              None of it made much sense to Franiel. The feeling of freedom he felt momentarily slipped away. He was left looking at the space where it had been, feeling empty. The task given him by Aum Geog had given him a feeling of purpose, for a short time had allowed him to forget how lost he felt. Yet now the task had been taken from him, and he was in no hurry to retrieve it, he saw it for the illusion it had been.

              What would it feel like to want to go somewhere? Or to want to be something, to want to be a monk, to want to be a teacher, to want to be the father of a family? To be able to arrange oneself neatly in a box and say I belong here?

              Spirals make more sense than crosses …. day becomes night becomes day, lives come into being, and go out of being … there is always new life coming into being …… around and around

              He began to walk along the path, away from where he had already been …. towards something new? He caught sight of a dead blackbird lying in the long grass to the side of the track and knelt down to look at it.

              It is quiet and still.

              He dug a hole, scraping in the dirt with his fingers and then using a stone to lever the lifeless body into the hole. The bird’s brown eyes are still open. Franiel covered it with dirt, looking deep into it’s eyes, until there is no sign of it, just a mound of earth.

              He traced a spiral in the dirt.

              Joys more than sorrows…

              He sat back on his heels, and keeping his mind empty, he sang to the dead bird.

              #736
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                What’s that, slow down Felicity I can’t understand what you are saying!

                Felicity took a deep breath. I am so sorry Tina, there has been a dreadful mix-up with the dresses. The dress that arrived for Becky was meant for another wedding.

                Oh right, said Tina, well I was a little surprised when I saw it, but then, I have no idea what russian wedding dresses look like.

                Oh yes I am so sorry, it is a terrible mix-up. Yes that dress was meant for a … well the bride was going to arrive in a huge wedding cake and then pop out the top . Oh Tina we worked weeks on it … and isn’t the dress just luscious! pure silk it is … and we had a ladder purpose built and the groom was going to climb up beside her and say their vows on top of the wedding cake on a revolving pedestal .. and somehow the dresses got mixed up … I am so sorry. Her voice trailed off.

                Tina, making a valiant attempt to contain her laughter, tried to reassure the distraught Felicity … well I am not sure if Becky even have noticed her dress, she was quite preoccupied with applying peachy glow mineral cosmetics when I last saw her. She has some unfortunate splotches on her face, an allergy to red fruit I think.

                Oh that poor sweetheart, gushed Felicity sympathetically. Oh I wish I could give her a big hug! She is such a sensitive one, I didn’t want to bother her, that’s why I am ringing you Tina. You are always so calm and sensible. What shall we do?

                Well to tell you the truth Felicity, I have been trying to contact Becky for the last hour, I can’t get through to her number.

                #731
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  It was taking longer than expected for Sanso and Zhana to find food, and they were weak with hunger when they came across the big toad. There was plenty of water; gurgling brooks and rushing streams crisscrossed their path, crystal clear with icy cool snow melt from the summer thaw. The’d found a few cow berries along the way, and they had chewed a few mushrooms but they wanted something substantial before setting off for the other side of the world. Sanso had left a trail of flourescent green cave lichen, to show them the way back to the cave entrance, which was to be their portal to Nishanti’s place.

                  Maybe the toad will show us the way to find food, said Zhana. Ask him, Sanso!

                  You ask him! replied Sanso.

                  No, YOU ask him. Zhana was inexplicably feeling shy.

                  Sanso chuckled goodnaturedly, and agreed to ask toad. He stood there silently smiling for some minutes, and Zhana began to wonder just WHEN Sanso would oblige. Her stomach was grumbling and growling and she was starting to get impatient when Sanso turned and strode purposefully off to the left.

                  What the…..snapped Zhana. She rushed after him, angrily shouting OY! Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling face down amongst the mushrooms.

                  Sanso turned, and couldn’t help but laugh. The more he laughed, the angrier Zhana became, causing Sanso to laugh all the more.

                  AAAH Ha Ha Ha! AAAHHHH Ha Ha Ha HAAAAH! OOO Hoohooo! If you could see your face all covered in blue mud and red and white spotted mushrooms, you’d laugh too!

                  Zhana started to cry.

                  There there, dear, Sanso said kindly, trying hard to stop laughing, and wiped the mess off the girls face with an old rag he found in one of his pockets. Did you know that Siberian blue mud is a much sought after beauty treatment in some places? This little mishap will do wonders for your complexion, you know.

                  Will it? snivelled Zhana, who had been preoccupied of late with with her adolescent skin.

                  Yes! There is no such thing as an accident, you know.

                  Well, where were you rushing off to, anyway? You promised to ask toad where to find food, and then without saying a word, you dashed off and left me!

                  Sanso looked perplexed. I DID ask toad!

                  No, you DIDN’T, retorted Zhana.

                  Sanso stared at her, wondering what was the matter with her. Then the penny dropped, so to speak, and he realized that Zhana was more familiar with verbal conversations, and had been unaware of the silent communication between him and toad.

                  Zhana, most of our conversations aren’t in words, you know, he explained gently. Listen to the non-words.

                  Huh? it was Zhana’s turn to look perplexed.

                  You do it all the time you know. You are simply not paying attention.

                  He winked at her, and smiled. Come on! The food is this-a-way!

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