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In reply to: Snooteries
Dear Anne Horny Smooch
The Snoot is FLOVE as thou all
The Snoot dreamt of its Back that was on its Frontside… It was moving freely and though in the usualness of the waking reality consciousness is commanded so to speak to rearrange itself into things… that are no more than the expression of different aspects of thyself.
Since the attention is not so absolutely focused in the Snoot area of consciousness the energy of FLOVE is flowing freely and it is not constricted.
Thus thou canst absorb the red fruit knowledge and know. Know that you are back and front at the same time and appreciate thyself inside out or outside in as is thy creature cat when she lick herself.With Mych FLOVE and sn
tchesThe Cutie Snootie
In reply to: Snooteries
Dear Snoot,
Something else just happened on the same dog bed: Henry was sick on it. Is it because I haven’t been allowing my cleaning aspect enough?
And not only that, Snoot, it’s a Sick Sync: I woke up this morning with stomach pains and diarrhoea! Is it a release of the grey energy blockage?
Weak and Bafffled in West Barfland
In reply to: Synchronicity
Oxshift
ahem, well for my latest synchs:
I followed numberplate J533 into town this morning.
Lemon synchs please see my previous comment well … i finally threw out the last of these lemons I had stored in my fridge yesterday, and thought fondly of the whole lemon synch thing. Then I noticed today that Tracy had posted the lemon tree song again in her ramblings thread. A short time later I picked up the local hawkes bay newspaper in order to peruse it, and saw that the whole front page was a picture of Noel Lucas (we don’t know him, I just include his name for accuracy) and a big heading A ZEST FOR THE BEST. Noel was holding up a lemon, which looked to be about as big as his head. It weighed 756gms.
Apparently on Jan 12th there was a story of a 600gm lemon (unfortunately I missed this story .. as you can see our local newspaper is full of riveting news …) and now a lemon war has started as lemon growers vie for the biggest lemon.
Noel has never fertilized his lemons and attributes it to climate changes. He has lived in the same house same house since 1983 and this is the biggest crop ever.
Director of the Lemon marketing board believes the bumper crop is due to an “evolutionary leap.” hahahaha
I think this is also a Nadia synch, biggest baby, biggest lemon… oh and also Hercules the biggest dog.
In reply to: Synchronicity
HAhaha, thanks to Eric, we found the real Mr Flynn
And in the article it says that
An international team of 21 geneticists working with the National Human Genome Research Institute, published its findings last Friday in the journal Science after having studied DNA samples of over 3,000 dogs and 143 breeds.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.
It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.
A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.
Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.
Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.
A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.
Oh! Who’s there?
A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.
Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.
Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?
Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.
Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.
Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.
I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?
What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.
Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?
Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!
Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.
Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.
Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….
Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.
She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..
Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.
Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?
Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Unable to focus his attention on the now, Yann was amazed at his ability to create misunderstandings all around him.
People that were calling him, people that were emailing him… even himself with himself!
Trying to work, he was always clicking on the “wrong” mail, the “wrong” application, the “wrong” icon… wrong wrong wrong… he was laughing inwardly, thinking about what their friend Abby had told them yesterday about always thinking on the lack of or on the I can’t have it… well she was always doing this movement as if she was playing drums… and today at work, a friend of his came and told him it was an beautiful Monday, and she did this very same movement of playing the drum!!! he wasn’t aware that it was quite fitting the day coming.Though he could still focus on what was accomplishments in this day full of seeming obstacles. He really appreciated having lunch with Yurick, and laughing, talking of dolphins and stuffs
well they were planning and doing many things now that they were living together.Inspiration was here again, and the motivation too.
He had a dream last night about something that seemed quite important, something connected to him intimately. Almadar
what was the name about?When telling Yurick, it appeared that he had no impression about it, nonetheless he seemed quite interested, and it was also a synch as Yurick was also in the dream. Yann was asking him about modifying a pattern, energetic pattern to help a girl…
Who was she? She seemed familiar.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Georges and Salome’s journal
From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Shu Lom Agamon. Part I
I was quite puzzled by the similarity of our bodies. The encoding was mostly the same, though we were not of the same essence. We were like twins… even the little beauty spot on my butt.
Well I didn’t see him naked if you wanted to ask. I could feel it. Our bodies were resonating, especially in such physical proximity. He was as puzzled as I was. Well, even more, because I could feel he wasn’t objectively aware of so many similarities. His essence was well know to me, and all I could do was laughing… inwardly.
…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
« … local time in Sydney is 5:55 PM, temperature on the ground is 55°F (23°C)… »
— Seems like five fives… a hazy Mavis emerging from a heap of plane sheets said, still with her yellow hand-knitted blindfold on her eyes, probably for herself more than for the benefit of her bedazzled neighbours.
As no one was answering, she continued her monologue while the man near her was looking embarrassed, avoiding the gaze of the cackling woman.
— You know, I’ve always got lots of fives in my life, I was the fifth girl of my family, born May 5 th, “Mavis”, my first name’s got five letters, and the coincidences go on and on, once you think of it, that is positively amazing, I daresay. German say five is “fünf”, so for me, it’s fun and play, when I put that in perspective… Still better to have that kind of outlook on these coincidences as they are piling up so well, don’t you think…Still getting no answer from them, she continued imperturbably.
— Oh, great, we are arrived… That journey was exhausting, not that I lacked any sleep for that matter, but you know, my legs got all swollen, and my bladder is playing tricks on me… Good thing I had these socks, you see, the vendor told me they were perfect for long-haul plane trips, not that I can see any difference anyway… Worse thing, if you ask me, was that rushing through the Japanese airport… I would not have made it without the help of this Spanish couple. Man was kind enough to push me on a trolley to the boarding gate… Now, where is this lovely couple,… hope they didn’t leave without me. It seems we all go to the same destination, how funny isn’t it? An angelic spa in a heavenly island… Sounds lots of fun… I can’t wait to see my friends here!
Mavis was now standing on the seat of the plane, to get a better outlook on the back of the plane, for any chance to see Jose Maria and Paquita, while most of the other travelers were in a rush to go outside, already reaching for their bags and switching on their mobile phones. Truly, as stout and short as she was, standing on the seat hardly made any difference, for she was barely able to see past the high seat, but she finally got what she wanted.
— WOOOHOOO! I’M HERE! she started to wave at the couple, busy reaching for their belongings.
In reply to: Synchronicity
The other day .. yesterday … ? Raven’s name came up. Was it in relation to a dream of Sashi, Stasha, Sahahahahaha? … or something?
Well no matter, the point is that Tracy mentioned him. Well I didn’t know much about Raven, just that he made me laugh. There are a couple of jokes we had that stood out for me, and I am sorry Tracy … but I have to be honest …. one was the picture of Tracy with a sort of funny head thing on with baubles on it she sometimes posted as her avatar. And Raven put a note in my blog saying “should we tell Tracy she is wearing a doily on her head?” and this joke went on for some time because we both found it hysterically funny. Well I am not sure if Tracy did.
He often posted funny pictures as well, one of these I had swiped off his blog at one point because I liked it. (It was a funny road sign )Well yesterday I had been thinking of Raven wondering where he had got to, and my sister sent me an email with an attachment of this same picture of RAven’s I had swiped. Then I went for a walk down the road and there was a woman with A DOILY ON HER HEAD! (It was a real doily, maybe she was trying to keep the sun from her head, I am not sure) anyway, thinking of Raven, I started laughing to myself, (quietly), and I swear I could sense Raven feeling delighted that I had got the joke.
Hope that all makes sense, it is quite early and I am having trouble waking today.
a rose for the maligned doilyIn reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
New Venice, February 2034
Al had finally completed his body experiments. The results were encouraging, and would probably help understand more of some bodily processes.
Obviously he’d had some fun with them, these past few years —it was a nice way to learn more about himself, and to bring some of that knowledge to other people. Essentially, it was mostly to show them that what centuries of so-called “modern medicine” had done was to make them defiant of their own bodies. The mass creations of all these diseases not so long ago was still very much embedded into people’s imaginations. How ironic was that most of these diseases were coming from the body itself.
So, what Albert was doing in his experiments was to push the limits to show how greatly adaptive the body structure was. It was nothing different than what scientists of the last decennia were doing on laboratory rats with many uncouth cocktails of injections —except that the trigger was for the most part an internal projection, no needing great amounts of artificial adjuncts.
Becky’s sudden and impressive illnesses, shortly before her wedding had not worried him too much, because he knew that at times the body needed to adapt to new settings and environments, albeit not always physical ones.
Another thing he knew well enough for having experienced it was that distrust was the most difficult part during this adjustment process. Distrust of the body, of self and of course of others. It was a delicate subject and most of their ancestors way of tackling the subject had been to reinforce the distrust in one’s own body. Pills and antibiotics could do wonders, but they were not that innocuous when they were used as ways to tell one’s own body it was not behaving the way it was supposed to be. As far as the symptoms were sometimes elusive, their physical effects could be quite unpredictable, depending on the patient’s state of mind.That reality play they were all writing to record their various connections has always been great fun. They had been toying with the idea of great changes, new frontiers of the mind and spirit and expansion of their consciousnesses.
It had started during Becky’s infancy, were she was inspired by her step-mother and a bunch of her friends who were doing all kind of meditations and strange “imaginary” stuff. And two years ago, she had found old digital archives and had been amazed at some of the changes that had occurred during so few of the past years of her own existence, much of them mirroring these “imagined” changes.
So, she had enlisted Sam, and Al and Tina to join in that reality play, to continue the projection into that “Shift” of the mind and see how farther it would take them.But there was something that Albert had always found a bit far-fetched was Becky’s confidence in such strides in their expansion of the mind. Doubtlessly he was acknowledging that things were changing —the last discoveries in how magnetic fields affected DNA and thus the bodies had been even compelling enough to have scientists reassess their stance on how DNA and evolution of species worked. But he doubted that everything would be a perfect utopia. And pain was such an inherent and useful part of their human experience that he was not conceiving how any consciousness expansion would get rid of it.
So, back to Becky’s illnesses which were mirroring his owns, a great deal of them was also about accepting that pain not as a flaw in the way they were creating their reality, but as something real, useful as a mechanism of feed-back. Accepting it didn’t meant cherishing it and holding dearly to it, it merely meant they had to recognize it as a way of the body to bring back the diverted awareness into the body. Well, Al wasn’t sure it would always be necessary to have it, but for the moment, the species was not entirely accustomed to being present into the body. Perhaps when it learns that, pain wouldn’t be necessary…
To reassure Becky, he had reminded her of how as a child she had grown teeth, and that had been perhaps one of the weirdest most disturbing and painful experience children experience in relation to their bodies, but her parents had been telling her all along it was just growing. She just had to trust her body knew better. Or like Krustis the clown was saying, it sure won’t help a man if he notices a thumping sound in his chest to have it stop…Well, in a few days time, it would be Chinese New Year. The large Chinese population of New Venice made it a very loved holiday, and Becky and Sean had decided to wed on that day, February 19 th where they would all step into the year of the Tiger.
How funny, Al was thinking, leaning over the railing of the balcony, looking at the sunset reflecting over the waters… These funny people that Becky had known in her infancy, the original FGF, they had seen New York under waters in their meditations… And that yellow car…
They had discussed a lot about this event, and some had been disquieted by that fact, fearing some impeding catastrophe. But all in all it had been a smooth occurrence. Authorities had been aware of the issue, and though they did not yet know all the mechanisms at play, they had been preparing some measures to avoid the city being flooded.
There had been lots of debates, as most politicians were advocating of building of dams to prevent the rising sea levels to enter the city.
But the studies of Dutch experts had been the most convincing, and New York City official soon decided to follow the example of the implementation in Netherlands of moving and adapting structures, constructions of buildings and plains liable to be flooded, and even buildings and roads construction on stilts structures, which Dutch had come over time to prefer to the dams, no matter how technically efficient…
Another imagery of adapting structures with the flow…In reply to: Synchronicity
today I learned Anu’s essence name is Pashi. I thought i had a “Pashi” synch but when I came to write it out i realised it was not the same word. Well the feel of it made me think of Anu, it is about a young girl who writes poems ….. so I am including it here:yahoo_laughing:
It is from a book I picked up to read:
“She had gone on a nature walk and collected plants and flowers she needed help naming. When she didn’t like the names one of the Science Nerds provided, she decided to name the plants and flowers herself. She drew a picture of a leaf or a blossom in her journal, and then what sex she thought it was, and then give it a name like ‘Jim” for a simple-leaved plant and ‘Pasha’ for a more downy flower”
In reply to: Rafaela’s Random Ramblings
could it be there and not be there at the same time?
Maybe one eye would see it and the other eye wouldn’t 
In reply to: Rafaela’s Random Ramblings
Holy Moly Molly Baloney! The Rafah Wall comes down, at the same time as the Rafi wall comes down, and I’m BACK!! Weehooo!:bounce:
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— But what the heck is he doing? He’s not gonna puke into my car! Armando was giving short anxious looks at the rear having finally noticed where the frogging sound was coming from.
— Oh, no… Al is very professional Tina was giggling. You know, he’s a top consultant on health issues. He’d tell you that better than me, I’m just a cosemotologist, but he knows what he does
— Oh really? Armando sounded interested
— Indeed… Al started
— Cosemotologist? interrupted Armando, almost flying over a wild goose crossing the path of the car.
— Yes answered Tina, batting a few eyelashes in the process.
— It has to do with this new thing, like using emotions as make-up?
— Yes, sure. It’s pretty effective for black spots, for instance, I’m not telling that for you of course. Here’s my card, if you’re interested in some private consultation. I also do sebum-blotches analysis, all you have to do is apply your face on a sheet of paper…Oh, wasn’t that mean, Tina? although Sam was finding the discussion hilarious, he knew Armando was quite ticklish on his appearance.
— And what’s the use of his swelling and frog sounds then? asked Armando, in a subtle attempt to move the focus of attention away from him
— Mmm… I’m still experimenting, but it’s an alteration of some of our common digesting bacterias, to have us efficiently process some of the new foods. But as I see it, the process of adaptation of these new bacterias may have some unpleasant side effects of swelling. Fortunately, I’ve found some old beat in the MuSoundeum that seems to help dissipate the swelling effects… I suppose the singer is still alive now… Perhaps you even know her, she was called Britta Toothpicks— Good grief, here it is! Armando was visibly very relieved to have the rooftop of their destination on sight. He started to descend abruptly, making Chump bark at the slight air decompression, and in a matter of minutes, at the sound of frogs and Britta Toothpicks’ beats, they had all landed safely on top of the River Soup Restaurant and Salsad a new hype all-you-can-eat restaurant, where people would sit on boats and scoop their food out of the soup-river.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
In the flying car, Al was mentally reciting mantras and drawing symbols, and was distractedly participating in the conversation which he could follow thanks to telepathic transfers he grasped from his friends conversations.
His gums were now much better, and he had recovered a wonderful smile with shiny pearl-white teeth.The car interior was now a bit small for them five, and Tina’d had to press herself on Al and Becky, who was almost disappearing in her boubou full of folds, her head wedged against the hat and the hat against the roof of the car.
— Can’t we get some air in there? asked Tina, who was feeling she needed to breathe more.
— Err… Let me checkSam’s friend was looking clumsily at some buttons for one to release the hood.
— Watch out! Becky cried, propping up her hat which had fallen on her eyes.
They had narrowly missed a bunch of balloons floating in the middle of the buildings.
— Jeeze! It’s no better than the submarway this thing… Becky was being fidgety at everything and was wishing for the whole wedding preparations to soon be over.
— Is that a frog we hear? asked Armando who had finally released the hood, having Becky clutch her hat, as well as little Chump, with the strong wind now blowing on their heads.
— WHAT? FLOG A TIRE? Tina was shouting now, seeing now all the benefits of being able to telepathically communicate…A click on a button. The hood was again put on top of the car.
— Bit too noisy, hey? said Armando
— Well, didn’t really mind said Albert dreamily— Oh dammit! Is there a damn frog in that car’s engine or what? Armando was stressed.
Tina looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror and spluttered affectionately. Al had just mentally expressed he was experimenting with new yeast actions in his digesting system, and that there was some minor inconveniences on which he would have liked some discretion… His belly was swelling funnily and making gargoyling noises…
— Ahahah, a frog… perhaps even a blue-bullfrog with all that frogging noise! Tina was feeling surprisingly exuberant.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— Wait!
A small impish gnomesque figure wearing a black and white tunic adorned with a silver blazon was standing in front of Claude, formerly known as Number Four.
Claude was reading to fight, and extricate himself of that stinky situation, starting to feel the powerful strength the treatment had given him and feeling virtually unstoppable.
Considering that such a small individual, especially unarmed, wasn’t much of a threat, he stopped in his track, wondering if that was part of a subtle stratagem.— What do you want?
— We do not want you harm, stranger. We are aware of the experiments which have been done on you, and we are sorry for what has been done…
— Oh, don’t be, I feel better than I’ve been in ages
— Yes, we saw that, though we are not that sure that the treatment effects are permanent either…
— Not permanent? What have you done to me?
— Nothing. There is nothing to fear from us, we are peaceful. We are a wing of a group of individuals whose primary skills lay in robbing. We are mostly hired to retrieve precious possessions in great discretion and you could consider yourself lucky to have seen us in our true form.
— Us? How many are you?
— A few… We gave you a mixture of plants and magnetite powder to help you stabilize your situation, apparently it has succeeded.
— Mmm, perhaps yes…
— Another thing you probably want to know before we help you get rid of these bandages if you want. During your sleep, you muttered lots of things, one of which was a name: “Sasha”.
— Sasha?
— Yes. I’m afraid we believe that the individual you were calling is dead. We monitored the doctor’s assistant when she disposed of the body. It was not pretty. I thought you should know.Despite his mission, Claude couldn’t help but feel sorry; Sasha’s sweet voice had been such a comfort during the last days of his transformation…
Robbers they say… Hope we’re not after the same thing…
Topic: Anchor More Quotes
A place for quotes you’d like to share, that you do not feel belong to other threads…
All flavours of essences welcome, just try to keep them short and relevant, so to speak
“Many essences participate in each book. Essences may be participating in many books simultaneously. Essences may incorporate several books with many of the same participating essences, and may incorporate some books with different essences.
“If an essence is participating in chapter focuses of any particular book, they shall be participating in manifesting focuses in ALL of the chapters. Therefore, as example, if you are participating in this particular chapter of this particular book, you also are participating in all of the other chapters of that particular book.
“Now; this is not to say that every individual manifest within this time framework is participating in this particular book.” [Elias, #795, March 11, 2001]
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
AH FREAKIN’ BUGGER IT! shouted Tina, waving her fist in the air and stamping her foot with as much energy as she could muster. A few people turned their heads to look at her, and she had to quickly remind herself of what Mehmot Lung, her teacher, had said: “To be a true poet one must be able to fully FEEL to the depths of one’s innermost being”. Well Tina was doing her best, using her time whilst waiting for the others to do her homework for the week.
“One must lose one’s fear of what other’s think, and not be afraid of emotion. SHOW YOUR EMOTIONS TO THE WORLD, CELEBRATE YOUR FEELINGS!” Mehmot had exhorted the class passionately.
Tina didn’t think she was afraid of emotion, but she did feel a tad silly, stomping and shouting to the heavens, especially when she saw the others pulling up in Armando’s flying car.
Oh, it is very yellow, she thought
“Poetry is a treasure-filled storehouse to which we have lost the key, make your words SING!” again she heard her teacher’s voice.
Your car is as bright shiny yellow as the piercing eyes of a snowy owl, she said haltingly to Armando a few minutes later when he asked her what she thought of his new car, and, blushing at her own words, she decided at that moment that lyric poetry wasn’t for her after all.
I wonder if ballet dancing might be more my thing, Tina wondered, noticing Sam trying not to laugh out of the corner of her eye. She mentally sent him a little kiss
bugger poetry!In reply to: Synchronicity
Yesterday, after Jib’s comment (#529) about the flying car (see video) and nine-tailed foxes, we were heading to the railway station, and a yellow car came just in front of us, with FOX written above the license plate (which was 9359 as far as I remember, because it made me think of the XSAMX one by Francie)…
WTM…In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— Where is your bloody friend?
Armando was muttering again, growing impatient and agitated he couldn’t appreciate stillness. He was “so busy” as he was pleased to remind his friend. Sam was rather amused and held his friend in great affection. But at times it could be very irritating.
— We’re going to be late. I have another appointment in 2 hours, and it is in Boston. Not that my new car can’t do that…
He looked at Sam, waiting some kind of approbation or validation, maybe was he looking for awe. But Sam wasn’t impressed at all. He could be in Boston and in Botswana at the same time… well not yet physically in both but he was getting better at it. It was not so important now to be all physically focused in one place and time… or rather to block the recognition of the other places and times one was focusing on. Well he was lost in his thoughts, waiting for Becky.
— It’s quite… Yellow , Al said in a neutral voice.
Armando seemed satisfied with this answer. Maybe the answer itself wasn’t important, he had been acknowledged, he was influencing his environment… Looking at Al, Sam smiled with a
I told you, Armando is not yet familiarized with telepathy.
Yeah, it is quite useful not to be noticed. Though I really wonder what Becky is doing, we still have to give Tina a lift. She’s learning to declaim lyric poetry, she fancies her teacher, you know…
Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the image Al had conveyed to him.
— What? You think I can’t do it with my new car?
Sam had no idea of what Armando was talking about. Since he had bought this new gadget, he only had one thread of converstation available. Though Becky and Tina were quite eager to try this new technological progress. Becky almost fell into Canal Street’s dark water last time she went to see her friend Yang Tsung, her Chinese herborist, in a gondocab. She was looking for some hair growing potion, and she left with some new preparation to help her regain her balance.
Becky was late, and it was quite unusual… well most of the time she was not.
Sam and Al joined their thoughts and opened themselves to her energy, all they could grasp was about some nine tailed fox, and Chumpy… was she trying to mate her Chumpy with one of those new fancy pet breed?
A few minutes later, she was jumping from a gondocab to the yellow flying car.— Sorry I’m late… you know I was at this new “Rent’a Pet Shop, Boy!”, it’s fantastic the variety of old and new breeds they have. A poor girl was looking for a parrot or a magpie… so common, hopefully she would follow my advice and take one of those nine-tailed glowing fox.
Her gaze was distant for a few seconds and Chumpy was protesting at how she was holding him.
— Well it matters not as you know. Chumpy don’t be rude to mama! She sat and grinned voraciously, looking a bit worried. When are we going? We’ll be late to meet Tina!
Armando was gaping at her, and decided he would rather not argue with her. It was his first time with her and he already had categorized her.
All 3 were sitting on the rear of the car, while Armando was driving, focused on his new toy, trying not to make them all crash on one of the emerging towers of Manhattan Water Town. Sam was telling his friends about a dream he had last night and that seemed quite important. At least it was the only one of the night he could remember.
— How unusual of you, Becky said, you should meet Yang Tsung, his herbs are quite efficient, he’s got weeds for anything…
They lost her for a few seconds again, and Al looked at Sam, encouraging him to continue with his dream. Sam attention was splitted between Becky’s strong energy and the concentration of Armando who was not so confident in his ability to drive the flyellow car after all.
— Well, as I told you it was about new focuses of Al and I, they were journalists…
— Journalists? Like my friend Bonny! Did I tell you about her last crush? She fancies a future focus of her mother. He’s called Moht and lives 200years ahead from now. She goes and meets him in her dreams mostly, but she’s practicing with rendering more real during her… She stopped speaking, looking a bit confused
Al laughed heartily, Sam was still and seemed to listen so carefully to what she was saying, that it was comic.
— Continue Sam, journalists then?.., she said, stroking Chumpy distractedly.
— Journalists yes, and they were creating a relationship similar to Starsky and Hutch. They were attending a meeting, though I don’t remember what it was all about. All I know is that Al and I were time-travelling, and we happened to meet them at that moment. I don’t know how we knew that the conference would be the target of a terrorist group, but we were there to warn them. We were talking with my focus, Simeon, as Andre, the focus of Al was already in the conference room. It was an international conference and the bomb would cause many death among political personalities, scientists, writers and so on… Well my focus thanked us for the warning but also told me that they had their lot of fun and mischiefs in their lives and that they were ready to disengage.
— Wow! I have a synch with that. I think I was one of the Indian woman there, maybe a minister or similar? You know what? We’re planning to go to Madagascar with Sean for our honey moon
— Great! answered Al and Sam in unison.
— We’re at the Opera, Armando said, Is it your friend who looks so furious?
