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  • #2279

    Ann glanced vaguely over the bookcase, wondering where her dictionary was. Did people still use dictionaries in book form? I suppose any book will do for the purpose, she decided, and reached for the nearest book, a book about Rembrandt. She opened it randomly five times, using a ball point pen as a pointer, and selected five words for Prof Underbaker’s assignment.

    …now…excite…

    What a coincidence, I might be able to kill two birds with one stone here, Ann thought, with a slight shudder at the bird killing metaphor (if it was indeed a metaphor, Ann tended to skip the Labelling Words classes)…

    …someone…

    Ah, but who? Who shall I excite?

    …pointed…

    Pointed in the right direction? Addressed someone pointedly? Not to put too fine a point on it…

    ….time

    Ann was interested to note that her selection of words started with the word NOW and ended with TIME, and popped it into her clue box in an effort to stay on course and finish the assigment.

    ~~~

    There was no time like the present. Indeed T’Eggy was well aware that All is Now, she’d heard about that theory in Wicks, the online magazine that she’d found so enlightening. She’d been reading a copy of Wicks (a reproduction, the originals were now collectors items and very valuable ~ in an artifact rather than a monetary value kind of way, monetary value having been devalued in the early part of the century) in the teleport waiting room when she met the handsome foreignor in the dusty blue robes. Of course, it was not unusual to meet foreignors in the teleport waiting room, not unusual at all, but the tall, dark, and handsome stranger had excited her. Perhaps it was the flash of long lean tanned thigh that she glimpsed as his robes caught on the door knob. Of course, even the ‘waiting room’ was a retro touch, because there was no need to ‘wait’ for teleport travel. It seemed ironic in a way that folks in the old days had perceived ‘waiting’ as an onerous thing, an somewhat unpleasant period of clock watching and crossword puzzle books. These days ‘waiting rooms’ were popular places to meet people and choose probability pools. The latest trend was Turtle Nights, and Frog Nights, where men and women gathered in waiting rooms to choose partners, to find that special someone, loosely based on the old Hen and Stag nights.

    “Do teleport stations have door knobs, Ann?” Pedro interjected.

    “Oh!” Ann was momentarily non plussed.

    “Non plussed? Is that a word?” asked Pedro.

    Pedro, stop interrupting! The assigment isn’t to design a teleport station!”

    The teleport station had been designed in retro style, a facsimile of the Atocha train station in Madrid. Lack of need for physical details had not resulted in a lack of appreciation for physical detail simply for it’s artistic merit, not to mention historical educational value, and the TRANS (Teleport Relative to Any Now Space) Station was an award winning example of old fashioned detail. Why, it even had doorknobs, even though doors had been dispensed with several decades ago.

    “I thought the assigment wasn’t to design a teleport station?” asked Pedro.

    “Does it bloody matter?” retorted Ann, with a hint of exasperation. “The overall point is to write rubbish, and that’s what I’m doing!”

    “I’m glad you pointed that out, Ann” remarked Pedro helpfully.

    “Oh my god, look at the time!” Ann exclaimed. “It’s time for class!”

    “Bugger that!” snorted Pedro. “I’d rather hear about what happened with T’Eggy and that tall dark stranger!”

    #2276
    AvatarJib
    Participant

      Two students of the Free the Fiction Writer Within evening course were whispering in a corridor of the Academy before it began.

      — Did you hear about prof. Moose?
      — Yes, you mean what happened with Pedro last night?

      They turned their head at the same time to look at Pedro, another student who arrived recently in town. He was sitting on the floor, reading a book and apparently unaware that he was the subject of several discussions.

      — Well, yes. Max the janitor was passing by one of the service room when he heard some odd noise. I don’t know if it’s out of curiosity or because it was a service room, but he opened the door and found them half naked between brooms and mops.
      — What I heard was that she told him bluntly that she was busy helping one of her students with the assignment she gave her students last time…
      — No! she told that?
      — Yes, apparently Pedro never had sex before and he went after the class to see her and asked her if she could help him. And after what Max said she was more than happy to help him out.

      #2233

      Harvey cursed when he dropped the bed, which hit the floor with a loud crack.

      Hopefully nobody had heard him! although it was rather unlikely. He particularly didn’t wish to alert the two ladies, his new employers Miss Sharon and Miss Gloria, to his interest in weightlifting. Harvey was working undercover for the World Association Requiring Prompt Eradication of Dreaming ( Dream Order: Newbie), otherwise known as W.A.R.P.E.D. The New Dream Order had spent considerable time and expense training robots to infiltrate bedrooms everywhere on the planet in a concerted effort to wipe out superfluous and unnecessary sleep, which had been the scourge of the planet for generations. The planet had reached crisis point with the abundance of sleep, mainly in the hysteria and confusion that had resulted when a fictional account of The Magical Nightmare, which had been published in the old Reality Times newpaper. It had caused widespread panic as the populace began trying to nap on everything in sight in a frantic attempt to control The Nightmare.

      Harvey had been employed by the two ladies ostensibly as a butler. Conveniently for Harvey, the pair of old slappers had not had the luxury of staff in their hitherto adventurous, albeit common lives, and were blissfully unaware of Harvey’s many improprieties and errors. Whenever Harvey behaved oddly, the two ladies would remark “One simply can’t get the staff these days, my dear”, followed by a bit of thigh slapping and raucous laughter

      #2501

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      AvatarJib
      Participant

        Back in January, her friend Ronda had asked her if she wanted to come with her to a seminar in Madrid, one of these loonatics seminar. She wasn’t interested herself in that kind of gathering of freaky people and she wouldn’t have accepted if Ronda hadn’t offered to pay for her expenses.

        That was the perfect occasion and the perfect time, with the crisis her little enterprise was sinking rapidly and money had never been so scarce. Those would be the perfect holidays, even if she would have to spend some time among some loonatics.

        So in March here they went in Madrid. The hotel was simply gorgeous and as they told the biggest in Europe.

        It was perfect again.

        Not that the rooms were big, though they were quite expensive, but there were so many sculptures and paintings, so many trinkets :raw-crystal: :crystal-skull: in the lobby and in the lounge… and there was a pool!!! She could see herself flirting :face-kiss: with one of those rich loonatics, always ready to spend money on glass pyramids that had properly been tachyonised :yahoo_hypnotized:

        That’s where her life changed and that she realized she needed STRUCTURE in her life.

        It happened during one of these meditations by a certain T’Eggy, a still active porn star, the favorite of Marvin Scrozzezi… and she was also doing seminars!!!
        When she saw her, Patricia thought her face was familiar, and that’s when she saw the groupies in the first row, all of them wearing the leopard superstrings that had been made mass spread by her performance in the latest Marvin Scrozzezi. Patricia had one of them, but the superstring hadn’t resist her generous forms or she would have bring it to the party… well that’s another story.

        T’Eggy was stressing the need of structure that they all needed in their lives and she made her points listened and watched with a few scenes of her recent and not so recent movies. Everybody was charmed and she made them laugh with her story about when she played the millionaire waiting for Bill the milkman…

        Ronda was not really interested by T’Eggy and a bit shameful of her adoration of T’Eggy, Patricia had to sneak out during the break and she bought a few books, amidst which “The Pelvic Respiration” or “Release your Stress in a Gang Bang”. She also bought a few vials of the special Dr. B. Cream which said “Rejuvenate your Vagina”… apparently made with some blue spiders silk and venom. She went quickly in her room and hid her purchases in her suitcase before returning for the Channeled Music of the Chinese Swamps Monastery and the Channeling of the Big ErectoMagnetic Stick called Fryzon.

        Patricia didn’t listen to all of that, she was already imagining all the ways she could structure her new life with the pelvic meditation.

        #2186
        EricEric
        Keymaster

          “Speaking of infinite details,” said Björn who was watching a circus program with a muscular looking man who balancing his contortionist partner who was attempting to balance plants on her face.

          “What?” said Iris who was already dozing on the couch.

          “Sorry dear, I was just talking to myself, have nice dreams”, he said, stroking gently her freckled face.

          He continued in his head, slightly dozing off himself.

          “One two, one two. Testing the acoustics… Sounds good.”

          “Funny how these thoughts come in and out… It occurred to me something funny.”

          :fleuron:

          “Can you add a plush toy in your dream?”
          “Oh sure darling. What kind of?”
          “A baby aardvark”

          :fleuron:

          Björn wasn’t very comfortable yet, he started to toss and turn until he realized he was seated on Iris’ plush aardvark. He fondly placed the little soft thing in Iris’ arms and returned to his thoughts.

          “There, it’s inserted…”
          “Now, your reality can be viewed to some extent as the most complex, yet the most simple of assemblage. You may liken it if you will to a room with mirrors (*). Ancient Indian mystics have spoken of Indra’s net where droplets of waters are each reflecting all of the other ones; these are the same images.
          It is not new information to you, the fact that you are seeing your reflection in your world, or that it is a sort of illusion reflecting you, but this is not the point we want to highlight here.

          Consider that the room in which you are is reflected an infinite amount of times in every direction. In a sense, they are all the same. They are you. Now, we come to the interesting part. You may very well decide to explore the room next to you with its shining details, by going through one of these mirrors. Some individuals quite enjoy such explorations, they call it past or future or even probabilities, other dimensions etc. And by moving into the next room, it becomes their present.

          You now realize that you have not really moved, since all rooms reflect only you. And you may want to continue in the direction you are exploring and go into more rooms. It’s alright. But some individuals realize that all rooms are equivalent, and that from where you stand, you can view the point you wish to explore in one part of the mirrors reflections. This is being present. You shift your attention, and expand your vision of the tiny part, rather than moving towards it with great efforts.

          Now, when you are dreaming, the very nature of dreams is the same. It gives you a whole fractal hologram to ponder. You may get carried away by wanting to remember all the tiny details, because in doing so, what you are doing is simply opening rooms upon rooms upon rooms. And more details will be created for you! Or you can simply realize that the details are all contained within your feeling of being present, and standing in the middle of one of these rooms, and not one of them is more important than the next.

          Connect to your feeling, and all the natural movements of your explorations will be automagically connected. And we bid you a nice fractal dream exploration.”

          #1201

          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!”

          #1135

          — “Dory?”
          — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
          — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
          — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
          — “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

          “There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
          Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

          — “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
          — “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
          — “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

          “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

          If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

          Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
          Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

          “Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

          After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

          — “Ain’t them beautiful?”
          — “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
          — “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

          In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

          — “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

          #1132
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            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!”

            #1004
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

              Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

              Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

              She read:

              Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

              Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

              OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

              Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

              Number 835 she noted :notepad:

              #957
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Primary Becky wandered through the reception rooms on the ground floor, stopping at a bookshelf and selecting a book at random.
                Fountains of Paradise

                #1798

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                EricEric
                Keymaster

                  Some interesting syncs:

                  Discussing the comment on Franiel and Vincentius with Francie, some things of interest:

                  F: hahaha i laughed at the egg bit :egg_wink:
                  E: bit silly I reckon :)) but somehow it synch’ed with two movies we’ve been watching yesterday
                  F: yes, good to have a bit of silly in our otherwise serious story :|
                  E: In one, there is that :ghost: ghost girl who stalks her husband new love affair, and ends up speaking through a parrot
                  And the other, there is this shaman old woman who remote-views her people went on a quest, and ends up dying in stead of a girl, so that the young one lives…

                  F: oh that is like your plants in the courtyard dream too —just had a recollection of you saying one gave up its pot for the other one
                  E: Oh yes, true… Perhaps it’s just like a layering, like you do for strawberries, you use parts of the roots to do new plants…
                  “Layering is more complicated than taking cuttings, but has the advantage that the propagated portion can continue to receive water and nutrients from the parent plant while it is forming roots.”

                  E: “In air layering (or marcotting), the target region is wounded and then surrounded in a moisture-retaining wrapper such as sphagnum moss ;))

                  Peat moss is also a critical element for growing mushrooms” that’ll make Tracy happy :))
                  In New Zealand, care is taken during the harvesting of sphagnum moss=))

                  F: “it can also be used as a substrate for tarantulas as it is easy to burrow into:spider:

                  E: “Such Sphagnum bogs can also preserve human hair and clothing, one of the most noteworthy examples being Egtved Girl , Denmark”. Egg and B.C. sync :))

                  F: cool name, Egtved. Oh thats interesting about the Egtved girl: due to be public this month
                  E: oh, well spotted!
                  F: shall we all pop over and check it out
                  E: Ahahaha sure :world:

                  #845

                  She put down the plate of honeycomb and turned round slowly, her calm exterior belying the fear which had suddenly gripped her insides.

                  He had called her Agent V!

                  She had to stay calm, think quickly.

                  And why is that, Jarvis?

                  Jarvis, what did she know about him? He had been employed by Dr Bronkelhampton, although Veranassessee had resisted the idea vigorously. The fewer people on the island the better as far as she was concerned. But the doctor had insisted he needed someone to tend the gardens, and in the end she had decided it wasn’t worth making an issue of.

                  I think I might be able to answer that question. Agent Gabriele entered the kitchen. His sudden presence had almost as disconcerting effect on Veranassessee as the revelation that Jarvis knew her identity.

                  A little sideline of our beloved Doctor is to experiment with honeybee mutations. Isn’t that right, Jarvis? And in the process he has discovered a way to alter the chemical composition of the honeycomb. It looks and tastes like honey, but too much of it is deadly.

                  Veranassessee turned to Jarvis. You knew this Jarvis …. but then why leave it in the fridge … and why warn me?

                  Wasn’t me left it in the fridge. I saw it there earlier. I figured the Doctor left it there. Buggered if I know why. He’s an odd one that one. Getting odder by the minute too.

                  A loud clattering outside and they all turned.

                  Winds getting up quickly, said Agent Gabriele in clipped tones. Secure the hives Jarvis. God knows we don’t need mutated bees on the loose. V tell the guests to stay in their rooms and away from the windows, and then meet me in my room. I’ll deal with the Doctor.

                  :fleuron:

                  Bloody windy here aint it. Thought I was coming to a bloody tropical paradise! Mavis was looking outside anxiously.

                  Oh this aint typical. The weathers been grand. We’ve been out bloody sun baking most days.

                  Oh we have! The sun and airs got special beauty qualities here. That Vessie told us that. Encourages us to get out and about.

                  Ere I know what will cheer you up. Lets get a snack from the kitchen. There’s some special ureu beauty biscuits in the pantry, and the chocolate brownies are bloody delicious. Who’d have thought chocolate had special beauty qualities eh. She’s a genius that Vassie. Oh I tell you what, I found some lovely honeycomb in the fridge this morning! Sharon licked her lips in anticipation.

                  Oh I’m bloody drooling here, Sha! You’re a bloody genius you are

                  #813

                  I am here to offer you my services in exchange for board and lodging Madame Chesterhope, said Franiel, deciding to tactfully ignore for now her rather odd remark regarding his reality.

                  Oh please, call me Phoebe. Phoebe smiled kindly at Franiel. Have you come a long way? Well really, I forget my manners. Sit down and I will prepare you a drink and some food. Then you can tell me your story and what has bought you here.

                  And so it was that just a short while later Franiel found himself ensconsed on the settee sipping hot mulled wine from a huge mug. What strange twists and turns life may take, he mused.

                  And whether it was the wine that loosened his tongue, or the kindly look in Phoebe’s eyes and the attentive way in which she nodded her old head so wisely, but he found himself telling her the most surprising things, as though she were an old friend he had known and trusted all his life.

                  Thus it was that it had soon been agreed that Franiel’s proposal would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.

                  It is as though you are an angel, laughed Phoebe, sent by God to help me, for it was weighing heavily upon me that there is much that needs doing. Dear Lydia who you met on the path, well what would I do without her, but she is not getting any younger, and Derwent …. her voice trailed off.

                  Well you are the second person to call me an angel, for I met Derwent earlier who also mistook me for an angel, but I am afraid I must disappoint you both, for I am a very ordinary mortal.

                  Oh I am not the slightest bit disappointed, smiled Phoebe. Here, she said, delving into the top drawer of a huge oak dresser, take these keys. I keep most of the rooms locked, for the place is so big and there is no need for all those rooms. Feel free to have a look around as you will. You will find your room prepared for you on the second floor, third room on the right.

                  Franiel was surprised and it must have showed on his face.

                  It is the room I keep ready for visitors. She chuckled. Most of the visitors I have here have no need of a place to sleep mind-you.

                  These are the others you spoke of earlier? asked Franiel,curious. At that moment though Phoebe’s attention was distracted. She looked towards the window, which was wide open though there was a chill in the late afternoon air.

                  Ah! there you are my lovely one! she cried, her face lighting up in delight as a large and colorful parrot flew in the window and landed on her shoulder.

                  The bird squawked and cast a steely gaze on Franiel.

                  Of course I will introduce you, said Phoebe calmly, Franiel, meet Vincentius.

                  #808
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Elizabeth Tattler had been taking the magic mooshrooms again. They had cost her $333 which she had thought was quite expensoove, but on reading the last paragraph of her latest horroor noovel, she knew it was money well spent.

                    #805

                    When Franiel got to the crossroads the path turned abruptly to the left and plunged sharply down, past a crumbling and long-deserted stone cottage, to a little bridge built across a gently flowing river. Beyond the bridge there was a short ascent westwards through a thickly wooded area and then the way opened out rather suddenly. Such a pleasant and restful scene welcomed Franiel that for a moment he felt he may have entered a dream. The air was fragrant, the grass was sprinkled with daffodils and shaded by great chestnut trees. Confronting Franiel, at the south-west corner of the green, was a massive stone lych-gate. Beyond the lynch gate, and almost hidden by trees Franiel could see the roof of Chesterhope Manor.

                    :fleuron:

                    In the day of judgment God be merciful to Derwent a sinner ……hehehehe. Well good riddance to God’s judgement! Begone God’s judgement! We’ve cheated the parson, we’ll cheat him again, for why should the vicar have one in ten ? Oh what’s this now then walking through the gate? A stranger! hehehehehe…tis one of God’s angels methinks, perhaps come to strike old Derwent down for his heathen ways and blasphemous tongue. Well does old Derwent even know what an angel looks like? and he chuckled in delight at the very idea of it.

                    You there! he shouted as Franiel drew close, Are you the angel Gabriel come as a messenger of God’s wrath? Or a wandering stranger come to pass the time of day with me?

                    Well neither really, said Franiel, although of the two possibilities I favour the second. I have come to have a word with Madame Chesterhope.

                    Madame Chesterhope! Does she still live here then? He lowered his voice reverently. A real angel that one, better than those biblical ones by a long shot. So you want a word in her ear. You will have to find it first of course.

                    Should I try the house? asked Franiel politely.

                    Try the house? Derwent rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully. I tell you what! Try the magic mushrooms first, and when you’ve tried them, try the patience of Saint Derwent. He gave Franiel a kindly pat on the shoulder. Good on you for trying Lad, anyway. I’ll bid you farewell now and if you do find an ear, best keep it, a spare ear can always come in handy.

                    #794

                    Franiel dreamed of strange eggs being dropped from giant birdlike creatures in the sky. Some of the eggs exploded into flashes of light in the inky darkness of the night sky. He fell to the ground and hid his face in his arms and waited. He could hear the highpitched noise of the eggs falling, getting louder and louder as they approached the ground, and he knew his life was in the hands of the gods as to whether or not he was destroyed.

                    At last all became quiet. He raised himself cautiously and began to examine the earth to see what damage had been caused. The dog of Leonard accompanied him, yet all of a sudden it ran from him. All else was forgotten as Franiel followed the dog, fearing for it’s well being.

                    As if in pursuit of a hare, the dog ran and ran, eventually coming to a large mansion and running in through the open door. The walls and floors of the mansion were made of marble, ornate pillars and statues graced the wide entrance way. The mansion appeared to be deserted, yet Franiel had no thought for that, only of bringing the dog to safety.

                    The dog disappeared into one of the many rooms of the palatial hallway with Franiel in hot pursuit. The room was empty save for a large Bengal Tiger, a magnificent and regal creature, radiating a strange power from it’s shiny yellow eyes. The tiger was about to take the small dog in it’s mouth, and Franiel grabbed a branch from a tree which was lying on the ground (and within his dream he wondered how the branch came to be there) and fearlessly placed it in the mouth of the beast. The branch was woefully inadequate, a mere twig in the jaws of this powerful beast, yet it distracted the tiger sufficiently for the dog to run to safety.

                    Now Franiel faced the beast alone, perplexed, yet strangely unafraid.

                    #774
                    AvatarJib
                    Participant

                      The red dung beetles were little by little slowing their pace and their form wasn’t so absolute now. Some were becoming butterflies and as they began to take off graciously, Sam was feeling the release of a long hold burden. Some others were settling down into the form of mushrooms of different colors. He could feel their different qualities and their specific roles in his previous experimentation. As beetles they all looked the same, but as he was allowing the reconfiguration of the energy they were expressing very different qualities and meanings.

                      He heard a joyous whistle and he suddenly remembered the Nanaconda.

                      You followed me all this way?

                      YesSss

                      You seem different to me now, as if you were the snake in the Little Prince’s story. Though you are not the same either.

                      Your perssSseption isSss quite accurate, I musSst sSssay.

                      Are you here to help me go back home?

                      #2009

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        IT’S BEEN A great looking week, MY mind HAS BEEN FILLED, MEETING flove IN THE MAGIC room TO DANCE AND SING. IT’S alright Yann TO give WITH A smile REINDEER STEW WITH addED mushrooms AND walk clear; BECAUSE nobody NEEDS TO nurse syncs, THEY NEVER GET lost ONCE opened. BE aware THAT nothing IS UNconnected.

                        #2130

                        In reply to: Snooteries

                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Sweet Dreams, she said, Of tarts and buns
                          Of wedding cakes and tarty nuns
                          Of snoots and moose
                          And moon papoose
                          And mushrooms, monks and hot cross buns…..
                          Sweet Dreams!

                          Schnortz, The Kuzhebarian Laughing Monk
                          :yahoo_sleepy: :yahoo_sleepy: :yahoo_sleepy: :yahoo_sleepy:

                          #734

                          That’s when she heard a little voice… not really in her head, the voice was like coming from under the space tissue.

                          Dear RATS… Thou canst do it thyself. Let the power of the Snooshrooms flow through thy skin.

                          — Who’s there? asked Becky anxiously… is it the Snoot? What are the smooshnools? I don’t want any more skin problem, don’t do anything!!!

                          Becky was feeling a bit drowsy again. She was tired of sleeping though and managed to get rid of this feeling.

                          She got startled by her cell phone, it was vibrating furiously now… oh no, just a picture message from Sam.

                          https://www.northrup.org/Photos/Kangaroo/low/kangaroo-laying8.jpg

                          With that distraction she lost grip of herself for a few seconds… and when she woke up she was feeling her head like heavy… how god!!!! what the f…

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