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  • #998
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      “Okay,” Al started.
      “At the essence of I Ching, is the notion that everything is mutable, and changes. Everything changes, except the law that says that everything changes.
      “In many ways, the I Ching is like a book where the pages numbering change every time you start to read it. Not unlike our story composition.”

      “I get that,” answered Tina, interested by what would come out.

      “So,” Al continued, always disagreeably pondering, Tina would say. “usually, when people are drawing to read from the I Ching, they have six numbers that give an hexagram. And these numbers are carrying into them their potential change, which usually gives another hexagram to read.”
      “In our stories, the entries have a fixed identity, which is given by the system; this is our starting point. For your comments, this is ’4-191-328’.
      “But as everything evolves, our entries are given an order in the book; this order is changeable, and that’s what I will use for the second hexagram; in your case it’s ’2-151-223’.”
      “If you say so…” Tina sighed, a bit lost.
      “Oh, I’m inventing the rules as we speak,” Al said trying to reassure her somewhat.
      “I don’t know if that makes me feel better” she said.

      “Okay. Now, I need to create the hexagrams; hexagrams are defined by six straight or broken lines; zero or one, binary system. Here, Chinese usually use the convention that odd is straight, and even is broken… Ahaha, doesn’t seem to make sense, but odd is male, unbalanced into action, and is associated with single, straight things. Broken is paired, complete in reflection, unbalanced in passivity.”

      “And I wonder when we actually start to hear something that makes sense?” whispered Tina, a bit crossly.

      “Okay, the thing I see, is that I have trouble making one hexagram with seven numbers, ahaha”, Al laughed a bit embarrassed.

      “Oh, then no point in wiggling like that” said Tina very sweetly, “Scrap any bit that bothers you”.

      “Okay, anyway we can go deeper into them afterwards if needed; I’ll scrap the first number rather than the last, because you see, 2 and 4 are both even, and thus there is no mutation here.”

      Original Mutation
      8 ╌ 3 —
      2 ╌ 2 ╌
      3 — 2 ╌
      1 — 1 —
      9 — 5 —
      1 — 1 —
      4 ╌ 2 ╌

      “So here we are, if we scrap the bottom one, we get…”

      #912

      Oh, shite, an aghast Yurick told Finn in the messaging window.
      What? asked Finn who was giggling (with great dignity) at the new comment he’d just made
      There will be retaliations says the cloud:

      “quickly storm stupid Dory closer front
      try suddenly syncs side free creating
      taken empty dreams let thread open
      against beautiful picked”…

      #877

      Oh for foocks sake, Finnley grumbled, does that woman never go home?

      Elizabeth Tattler was passed out on the desk, two empty wine boottles on the floor beside her chair.

      Foock you too! Foock you too! Screeched Robert X

      She grinned, she quite enjoyed Robert X, or MrX as she liked to call him.

      So what’s our Elizabeth been up to eh Mr X? Finnley picked up the messy pile of papers on the desk and carefully put them in order. They looked sort of interesting. Maybe it was time for a rest break. She pulled out her vegemoot sandwooches on chunks of rye bread, and, carefully dusting it first, she sat down on a big armchair in the corner of the office to read.

      Twenty minoots later she threw the pages on the floor in disgust, but then, disturbed by the mess it made, picked them up again.

      The character Veranassessee left her particularly disturbed. What a name! And what a Wishy Wooshy Noomby Poomby. Whats all this YES YES YES businoos! That Agent Gabriele was a selfish and dictatorial bastood as far as she could tell.

      She would see about that! She was no writer but she was sure she could do better than this load of old mongoat droppings.

      Well she would if she could find a pen on Ms Tattler’s shamboolic desk anyway.

      :fleuron:

      Veranassessee (V) drew back from his sloppy kisses. Wait! Have you got protection? she asked, imperatively and sensibly.

      Protection? … my gun is under the pillow … oh right I see what you mean, stuttered Agent Gabriele apologetically, reluctantly pulling himself from making suction noises on her breast to rummage for a condom in his suitcase.

      Great, now say that stuff again. You know all that crap about how beautiful I am. I sort of liked it.

      Agent Gabriele willingly obliged. Of course V recognised it for the lustful rubbish it was … still might as well have a bit of fun. He was damn good looking.

      Perfect, she said. Now, what position do you prefer?

      He was momentarily speechless, stunned, and even more aroused, if that was indeed possible, by her forthrightness.

      She rolled her eyes. Yes, you know POSITION … on top … underneath ..front … back… through a hole in a blanket …? myself I like to keep things simple, don’t want to make too much mess around the place.

      Anything you want Darling Agent V.

      A little bit later he sighed contentedly. You are by far the best lover I have ever had.

      Thanks, everyone says that. Hey! Put out that cigarette, there’s no smoking inside you know. She looked critically around the room. You know this room could do with a damn good clean, I could see dust on the headboard, you know, while we were doing it.

      I’ll make sure I clean it next time, he murmered huskily, kissing her, and saying that stuff again, about how perfect she was.

      :fleuron:

      Finnley giggled to herself. Much better! Well who’d have thought she would have a bit of a gift for writing. Carefully she replaced the pages under the telepooh and made her exit. With a bit of luck Ms Tattler would never notice.

      #1773

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        hmmm was adding that last comment up and thought that’s not right! … apparently as well as all their fees they also charge an additional .50 per transaction. :yahoo_rolling_eyes: Well there is the “5” again … reminding me to have fun. oh and this is comment 255

        Ella Bella got her rats – two of them, and one of them has been called Lusy. :mouse: and Katie says they are lovely and look you right in the eye when you talk to them :face-glasses:

        Table 12 again at a cafe i went today.

        :yahoo_big_hug:

        #820

        Beattie! called Leonora, who had just returned from an early morning walk. She had an envelope in her hand and was looking at it with a distinctly puzzled expression.

        Where did you get that? asked Bea. They had no mailbox, as there were no postmen to deliver to all the outlying cottages and smallholdings; they picked snail mail up from the post office in the village.

        Post Office isn’t open yet, where did that letter come from? Let’s have a look, Bea said, reaching her hand out. No stamp! It must have been delivered by hand.

        No stamp, Bea, but there’s a postmark! How did it ever get past the postmen with no stamp on it?

        This doesn’t make sense. It wasn’t delivered by the postman. Where did you find it, anyway?

        On the wall along the side of the lane… it was held down with a rock. The rock was a bit funny an’ all, said Leo, Now that I think of it. Didn’t look like any of the rocks round here, it had funny white markings on it.

        Bea was rummaging around in her bag for her glasses. She found them and squinted through the fingerprints on the lenses. Glass Hour, she read, 2163. Can’t be the date, 2163… wait! It says Nov 1st 2163!

        That’s ridiculous, Bea, lemme see it again. Leo frowned. I’m gonna google this here Glass Hour 2163.

        Coffee? asked Bea. But Leo didn’t hear her.

        #1746

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          yes, lots of triple numbers. I thought of you before Tracy, a bit later I checked the time on my phone, it was 5:55pm

          picked up my book to read just now, first line was:

          Terry closed his eyes and smiled serenely. “Do you know what he charges for one dose? Three hundred and thirty three dollars. He says it is his magic number”

          (they are talking about a dose of a new drug which allows people to have the experience of travelling to different realms)

          F:heart: (do you like my new signature ? I thought I could sign all my comments like this, Tracy came online just as I wrote that ahahahaha I bet she thinks it is :yahoo_sick: )

          #2008

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            LET YOUR DNA SING, AND DANCE THE bright dance, THE times ARE interesting, THE sun IS SHINING AND THE door IS OPEN. Finn askED THE BRIGHT dog SHE WAS taking FOR A WALK: SHOW ME THE link TO Salome! HE hands HER A black snoot AND SAYS: THERE’S change inside.

            #739

            Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

            Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

            Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

            It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.

            :fleuron:

            Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

            She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

            When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

            He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

            He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

            He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

            He looks at her. Come here. he says

            She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

            Then stops.

            My God, what the fuck is that?

            Veranassessee sighs.

            :fleuron:

            No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

            Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

            I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

            Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

            Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

            Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”

            #1687

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            AvatarJib
            Participant

              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.

              #702

              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!

              #1657

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                I am entering this crystal jug sold at an auction for 220,000 pounds, story as a synch, because it says they believe there are only 6 of these rare jugs. This relates to Eric’s comment where he talks of the 6 genuine crystal skulls.

                well this link is better because there is a photo, and also because it says there are only 5 others known of, which makes 6 in total.

                really there are quite a few synchs because the comment talks about the auction, and also the fake viscountess’ “life long search” for a crystal skull, which is what the person says at the end of the second link I posted, that they had been searching all their life for one the crystal jugs.

                #672

                Twilight was in a reflective frame of mind. She had felt real sad saying goodbye to her brothers, and that Blue Bull Elroy had won was worrying away at her. She’d had a dream about it the other night, the bull had got loose and it was all her doing. Well she didn’t remember much more than that about the dream, but it left her with a worried feeling.

                What is is honey? asked Mama Belle , who had been watching the quiet girl and had seen the shadow pass over her face.

                Oh it aint nothing much, I am just being addled brained. I were thinking about my brothers.

                Well honey, you just say your prayers for them at night, and leave them to the Good Lord to mind out for. One thing don’t do nobody no good ever is worrying.

                Do you believe in God, Mama Belle?

                Mama Belle chuckled. Sure I believe in God, even though all my life people said I must be born of the devil to get this way. Her eyes took on a faraway look. When I was little my mother said to me, “God must sure love you Belle. He knows you one of his special children to give you such a hard testing in life. He knows you can take it.” Well I took that to heart, and fact is, far as I know, we only got one shot at this life. So I might as well make the best of things I reckon. The sun still shines on Belle honey, don’t you worry.

                Must be hard for the sun to get through all that hair though, thought Twilight, feeling a bit sad for what her friend had been through.

                Them’s the freaks I reckon, those ones that pay just to come and have a look see.

                :fleuron:

                Dear Elroy and Jo

                I am having a fine time here, meeting some real nice folks. Mr Elson has got a plan to put some of my dancing in the show, in an act along with Bleep and Flop, that’s two of the little folks, Bleep is only 3 foot high, and Flop is not much more than a few inches taller. Well it will be fun and it means I will get paid more than just minding them babies.

                Felix Otterworthy, or they call him “the Otter Man” on account of the fact he ain’t go no legs, is a very learned gentleman. He has said he will help me some with my writing if I would like. Well, that is probably the thing I feel most excited about. He read one of my stories, and said it showed “some potential”.

                So it is all going fine. I can hear them now doing the first call of the day, so this is a short letter for now.

                My friend Mama Belle says I should pray for you boys. I said, “I reckon them two are beyond help”.

                Well I am only making fun, got to go now, Be sure and write me something back.

                lots of love Twi

                :fleuron2:

                ROLL UP! ROLL UP! WELCOME TO FABULOUSLY GREAT FREAKUS CIRCUS! THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH! See extraordinary acts and amazing feats! COME AND MEET THE FREAKS! See the Man with Two Heads, yes that’s what I said, TWO HEADS. Meet the ugliest woman that ever walked the face of the earth, that’s if you can stand to look at her! ROLL UP! ROLL UP!

                Another day at the circus was starting.

                #1615

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  I just read T’s comment in the story: one for sorrow, two for joy (Malvina's Dragon Rookery # 509). As I was out driving along the road a little bit earlier, I noticed the number plates of a couple of cars coming towards me, 157 and then 257. I particularly noticed the “1” and “2” in sequence, and mentally laughed wondering if Tracy was playing a game and what we were counting too. Shortly after that 557 passed me.

                  :fleuron:

                  These comments really are very funny, the way they are lining up. I was going to write another comment in the story just now, but decided it was too hot, must be the hottest day ever I thought, and then laughed at myself because it is not really that hot ( hottest day this summer though I bet ). Next thing I looked at the daily quote and it is the one where Tina says:

                  “Icy” is an exaggeration of course, said Tina, “it just meant I had to put a jacket on again today”. :yahoo_oh_go_on:

                  #637
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Is there anything I can do? Tina had phoned to see how Becky was, and Sean had answered the phone.

                    Hang on a moment, Tina ….. What’s that Beckipooh? … She says can you tell Felicity she has changed her mind about tribal, hmmm, whatever that means. His voice lowered, she is saying some very strange things Tina, ….. Nothing Becks, I am not whispering …. and can you send some blue diamond healing energy… this conversation is getting stranger and stranger!

                    Okay will do, give her my love.

                    Wait a moment Tina …. what is it darling, what are you saying about a gang of magpies? ….

                    #618
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Felicity, or the “Bridal Goddess” as she called herself, was most encouraging when Becky said she was after something “a bit different” for her wedding day. Weddings had been having a resurgence of popularity in the last few years, obviously it was not the solid institution it was decades ago, but many people still liked to exchange intentions for their relationship. Most regarded marriage fondly as a rather quaint institution from the past.

                      I will help you create your dream wedding! Felicity gushed enthusiastically. Most important is that you wear something you absolutely adore and that looks simply stunning on you for your special day. What sort of look did you have in mind?

                      oh, um tribal actually, said Becky, vaguely, suddenly remembering she hadn’t mentioned her plans to Sean. He could be a tad on the conservative side at times . In fact, come to think of it, had she even mentioned to him that they were getting married?

                      Fantastic! Demure tribal? Revealing tribal? I do all sorts of tribals, whatever you want!

                      Hmmm said Becky reflectively, well probably not demure.

                      No agreed Tina, not demure.

                      :fleuron:

                      A few hours later Becky and Tina were recovering from the ordeal, as Tina called it dramatically, over a cup of organic trim alpaca’s milk expresso Lucciato

                      Hey what’s this about a soup party? asked Tina. I couldn’t get much sense out of Sam, but he says you are helping with it.

                      Yeah it’s going to be great!

                      Well, just so long as you aren’t doing the catering, it should be great, thought Tina, shuddering at the memory of stuffed Nasturtium Blossoms and Locust Bisque Becky had served at their last get-together. Not forgetting the garlic icecream for dessert.

                      I heard that! It was healthy Tina! retorted Becky defensively.

                      Bugger telepathy sighed Tina

                      #498

                      some writing by Twilight

                      Jo fixed me up a swing. It hung from the old elm tree out the front. That’s my favourite place. I just sit there rocking and thinking, and thinking and rocking. Sometimes I would weave stories or sometimes I would dream about when I am real famous. I know I will miss Jo and Elroy, but then I cheer myself up thinking how, when I am rich, I will visit them and give them money and presents and how fine that will be.

                      Elroy and Jo don’t know about my stories or how I love to write. I ain’t much good. I didn’t get much schooling but Elroy helped me some and then I would try and teach myself the rest. The only book we have is a big old bible. That is written in real fine words. The part I like the best is a song that Solomon wrote. I don’t know how the tune went but the words are real nice. It is real romantic too. I dream one day some man will use words like that to me. Not like those drunken slobs round these parts. Anyway, that’s how I know I am not much good, because I can’t write nothing like Solomon. But I try anyway.

                      Yesterday I was sitting out on the swing rocking and thinking and young Dan from the ranch over the way turned up on his horse. He looked real hot and red and sweaty. Mostly though, he is real fine looking, and I confess I have a soft spot for him. So I leapt off the swing real quick and straightened myself up and bit my lips to make them all big and red. I wanted him to see I had developed some in the last little while.

                      Where’s your brothers, Twi? he said to me.

                      I felt he didn’t seem to be giving me the appreciation I hoped for, so I did a little flick of my head and gave him the look I had been practising. I had seen the other girls do this look to the men at the saloon, and it seemed to work a treat. I gestured at the same time, real slow and casual, and I said “Out the back, Dan.” in a honey voice.

                      He started to ride off, like he was in a hurry. But then he stopped. My heart did a little flutter. He said to me, “You know Twi, the boys at the ranch were talking about you. And it wasn’t the sort of talk should be said about a lady”.

                      When Dan said that, I felt he had kicked me in the guts. I wanted to gasp. But I am plenty used to putting up with things and not showing my true feelings, so I just looked at him real cold. Then I spat. I have been practising my spitting and I can do it real good now. Nearly as good as Jo.

                      “I am just telling you Twi he said. I thought he would say more, but he seemed to reflect for a moment, then shook his head and off he went in a hurry to find the boys.

                      Elroy and Jo looked real bothered when I saw them later. I knew when to hold my tongue so I did not give them no smart talk, and I cooked up a real fine bean dish for their supper. It was real quiet over the table that night. Truth was, I still felt mighty bad over what Dan had said.

                      I confess I felt some cares and sadness on me that evening when I went to bed, and found I could not sleep. I got out my diary and thought I would do some writing.
                      I tried to write what my name, Twilight, means to me. My real name is Tina Willemine Ivy El Disperso. I always been called Twi. Then Hank at the saloon, he says one night, “I am calling you Twilight and that sort of caught on. It made me feel special, having my own stage name.

                      I started writing. Lavender blue sky bleeding into the dark. I thought that sounded quite a good start to my writing, so feeling a bit encouraged I went on some more: Twilight is a magic time. It is the time I see things that aint there, but maybe they could be. My eyes play tricks on me in the half light and I feel like I could be anyone. I feel like I could be someone who I isn’t. Twilight is the time of promises. The promise and mystery of the night to come. It is inbetween time when you know the ordinary stuff could be magic.

                      I stopped. I weren’t never going to be able to write like Solomon. I knew that and I felt real bad. At least I could dance though, and that was going to make me famous. But that thought could not cheer me up this night and I confess I cried myself to sleep like a baby.

                      #457

                      Joe indicated left and pulled off the motorway.

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

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

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

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

                      Arr, me too, Joe, said Harry.

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

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

                      Or dominoes, added Harry.

                      Arr, dominoes an’ all, agreed Joe.

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

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

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

                      #434
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        “Oranges and lemons”, say the bells of St. Clement’s

                        (The crone started singing to the baby)

                        “You owe me five farthings”, say the bells of St. Martin’s
                        “When will you pay me?” say the bells of Old Bailey
                        “When I grow rich”, say the bells of Shoreditch

                        (Madrake tutted and raised his eyebrows)

                        “When will that be?” say the bells of Stepney
                        “I may express to you: Whenever you choose to create it”, says the great bell of Bow

                        #306
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          Finn moves silently along the path, placing her feet with care. It is more overgrown in the wood than she remembers, but then it is such a long time since she came this way. She can see in the distance something small and pale. A gentle gust of wind and It seems to stir, as if shivering, as if caught.

                          She comes to a halt. The trees are still now, not a leaf stirs. She can hear nothing other than the sound of her own breathing. She can’t see the clearing yet either, but she remembers it’s further on, beyond the next winding of the path. She can see it in her mind’s eye though, a rough circle of random stones, with a greenish liquid light filtering through. The air smells of leaf mould and it is spongy underfoot. There’s a wooden bench, a grassy bank, and a circular area of emerald green moss. Finn thinks of it as place of enchantment, a fairy ring.

                          She reaches the tiny shivering thing and sees that it is a scrap of paper, impaled on a broken branch. She reaches out gently and touches it, then eases if off the branch, taking care not to rip it further. There is a message scribbled on the paper, incomplete. meet me, is all it says now

                          Finn feels dreamy and floaty. She smiles to herself, thinking of the purpose of her mission, feeling as though it is a message to her from the past. She is overwhelmed for a moment with a sense of love and acceptance towards her younger self. Yes, she whispers softly to the younger Finn, I will meet you at the fairy ring. We will talk a bit. Maybe I can help

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