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AuthorSearch Results
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July 31, 2014 at 3:00 am #3343
In reply to: The Time-Dragglers’ Extravaganzas
King Artie yawned, sitting in a slumped posture in the throne room, where the mother-of-pearl columns were shining with the morning light’s long shadows.
As usual it was empty at this early hour of the day, and he was supposed to have a his weekly review with the castle’s chamberlain.The chamberlain was a little stunted man, with some missing knuckles on his left hand and a broad unwavering smile firmly planted on a big round head with large ears, no matter the topic of discussion.
“Shall we commence, your Majesty?”
“Whatever…” The King was still hungover from the last night’s party and the voice was ringing unpleasantly in his ears.
“To make it short, I’ve narrowed down the topics to a few.
“Very well…”
“Firstly, shall we talk of the new comers on our lovely island of Abalone?”
“yes, how come I haven’t met them already?”
“Well, they are still adjusting, you know how Abalone’s magic works… Power of positive anticipation, etc. it takes a while to adjust and discover the city, a lot of people never get around it without some help actually, depending on how permeable their current worldview’s beliefs are…”
“Well, keep me posted when they get there.”
“Very well, Sire. And… on the topic of finding you a Queen…?”May 18, 2014 at 5:07 pm #3076In reply to: The Lost Loosid Threads—Behind the Scenes
Hernwick reemerged from the shadows. That happened once or twice every century, rarely more. He coughed out some dust and other unpleasant manners of things, then started some momentum.
He would have to see what this area’s fashion had to offer first.June 18, 2013 at 10:03 am #3047In reply to: The Lost Loosid Threads—Behind the Scenes
Dory was on her way to an local greening event, a sort of garden show and time manipulation in one, where contestants took turns demonstrating their skills in rapid~greening. A hideous concrete relic on the coast had been earmarked, and contestants from all over the world were to take turns covering the monstrosity in flowering greenery in the shortest amount of time possible. The events were usually held on a weekend, because everyone was busy vacationing during the week, so use of time manipulation was permitted, as long as it wasn’t too over the top, in other words, weeks and months were permissable, but not years. Except in special cases, such as in the cases where the contestants refused to follow the rules, which it must be admitted, was unsurprisingly often. Prizes were awarded to everyone who participated, really, there were 3D print your own prize stations scattered around the perimeter of the monstrosity site.
The half finished abandoned hospital that Dory had participated in the previous month had turned out spectacular, especially the mystical combination of tele ~imported prehistoric tree ferns, cherry trees and solar powered fireflies. The addition of ice cream and cupcake printers in the corridors had been the icing on the cake. Indeed the icing in what used to be the mortuary was rather pretty, especially when one hadn’t seen snow for decades, a cool crisp tundra scene with icicles and blue shadows on the snow covered slabs, with clumps of red spotted mushrooms for a splash of colour, not that the extra colour was needed as the very air was a swirling mass of colours.January 14, 2013 at 10:06 am #2970In reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils
The blizzard mircaulously stopped as soon as the fountain erupted, and the icicles on the trees in the square twinkled, casting long blue shadows on the snow. Mari Fe and Pearl had just finished a second helping of cake, and were feeling optimistic and relaxed in the warm cafe.
Mari Fe sighed in contentment. “You know what Pearl? I’m considering retiring early. Because quite frankly, I prefer eating cake.”
“Can’t you eat cake and carry on? You’re eating cake now, and you haven’t retired yet.”
“Well I suppose that’s true enough. And shopping for flying carpets is hardly grueling labour. But all the sudden portalings, and the problem of weather, and clothes…it does get tedious. The evenly temperate global climate is a long time coming!”
“It’ll come alot quicker if we do well at our job!”
“I suppose there is that…”
“Take a look out there, Mari Fe ~ look at the weather in the square now! Sun’s shining, birds are singing, children are coming out to play…but it’s still snowing in Moscow.. Come on, let’s go and see about the carpets, and make tracks for Moscow.”
“What’s the cake like there?”
“Sweet, beautiful, as light as air, just like the famous Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova?”
December 29, 2012 at 11:38 am #2880In reply to: The Surge Team’s Coils
In the vast mudflats of the Guadalquivir river delta, a small group of mudlarks on a field trip from London examine strange geometric shadows of what look to be the remains of a ringed city. “L..l..l..la la la looks like that in in in ins suh suh suh insignia, d d d don’t it, mate?” stuttered Dennis.
“The one we found on that old sponge in the mud of the Thames?” asked his uncle Bob. “It does, now that you mention it. Must be a connection. Ok lads, fan out and keep your eyes peeled. We must be close to finding the portal entrance, and we need to find it before the Three Kings parade.”
August 25, 2010 at 10:39 am #2812In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens
The entrances to Faerie (and indeed to other alternate realities and dimensions) had been shrouded in disbelief for several centuries, but times were changing and the fog of scepticism was dissipating, evaporating like river mist on a hot summer morning. Looking for the entrances deliberately, Blithe found, wasn’t the most efficacious method. Sat Nav alone would be unlikely to reveal them, unless the locating device was used in conjunction with impulse and intuition. Any device and method could be used effectively when combined with random impulse, even Google Earth or Google Moon. Blithe’s friend and colleage Dealea Flare was making good use of this device on her travels, using it as a personal non physical airline and space shuttle service. Dealea could get from A to B and back again in no time at all, or even from A to well beyond Z and back again in no time at all using this device in conjunction with impulse and large dose of intention and focus. Blithe had the impulse down pat but still had difficulty with the focus, which was largely a case of having too many intentions at once, most of them somewhat vague.
The more random and impulsive Blithe was, the better her investigations went, often leading her into a new and exciting exploration which may or may not be linked to the current intention. Such was the case when she went on a mundane shopping trip to the Rock of Gibber. As she sat sipping coffee at the Counterpart Cabana sidewalk cafe listening to the locals conversing in Gibberish, she noticed the extraordinary tangle of pipework on the building opposite. It reminded her of the steampunk world she had been investigating in her spare time. The text book steampunk world was intriguing to say the least, but rather grim, and tediously full of victims and fear. The inhabitants always seemed to be running away from someone. The steampunk world she was beginning to sense in Gibber was quite different in that it was a sunny cheerful alternate reality held together with a vast labyrinthine network of water pipes, scaffold, and connecting cables.
Blithe paid for her coffee and strolled off, noticing more and more scaffolding and tangles of pipes as she climbed the warren of narrow winding streets. The air was different the higher she climbed up the winding uneven steps, the sunlight was sharper and the shadows denser, and there was a crackling kind of hush as if the air was shimmering. Cables festooned the crumbling shuttered buildings like cobwebs, and centuries of layers of crackled sun faded pastel paint coated the closed doors. Open doors revealed dark passageways and alleys with bright rectangles of light glowing in the distance, and golden dry weeds sprouted from vents and windowsills casting dancing shadows on the uneven walls.
The usual signs of life were strangely absent and present at the same time; an occasional voice was heard from inside one of the houses, and there were pots of flowers growing here and there, indicating that a human hand had watered them with water from the pipe network. There was no music to be heard though, or any indication that the cable network was in use, and there were virtually no people on the streets. A lady in a brilliant blue dress who was climbing the steps from Gibber Town below paused to chat, agreeing with Blithe who remarked on the peaceful beauty of the place. The lady in blue said “Si, it’s very nice, but there are many steps, so many steps. If you are coming from below there are SO many steps!”
There was a boy watching a white dog watching an empty space on the pavement, so Blithe stopped to watch the boy watching the dog watching nothing. Eventually Blithe inquired “What is he looking at?” and the boy shrugged and continued to watch the dog watching nothing. Blithe watched for a little while, and then wandered off. A small child was giggling from inside a doorway, and a mothers voice asked what he was laughing at. The child was looking out of the door at nothing as far as Blithe could see.
As the sun climbed higher, Blithe began to descend into Gibber town, winding and weaving through the alleys, wondering how she had failed to notice this place half way up the Rock until now. She came to a crumbling wall with a doorway in it that looked out over the bay beyond the town below. This must be one of the entrances, she deduced, to this alternate world in Gibber. “Entrance”! Blithe had a revelation. “I never noticed that the word ENtrance and enTRANCE are spelled the same.” Later, back at the office, Frolic Caper-Belle said she thought it was probably a very significant clue. “I’ll file that in the Clue Box, Blithe”, she said.
{link: entrance}
March 18, 2010 at 11:24 pm #2680In reply to: Strings of Nines
That’s the moment Minky was waiting for to come out of the shadows and shanghai the boy away.
“Yikes!”
February 7, 2009 at 3:48 am #2203In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
The Fellowship wish to extend our greetings to you young lady, and to thank you most sincerely for gracing us with your delightful presence.
Lavender smiled encouragingly at the pointy headed gentleman who was welcoming her so warmly. Still, she was wondering anxiously why she had been summoned to this meeting of the Fellowship, when her little Essence was not due for another two days.
Thank you, it is I who am honoured to be here. she responded politely.
The Speaker smiled benignly at her. I sense your anxiety. Let me assure you there is no reason for concern. We are very happy with your pregnancy. However we did encounter some unexpected challenges. Perhaps, it is best if you just see for yourself.
He nodded to one of the Helpers, who waited like silent black shadows around the edges of the room. The Helper disappeared, and returned a moment later carrying a large bundle, which appeared to be wiggling vigorously. The Helper laid the bundle gently at Lavender’s feet and unwrapped the cover. Three little striped piglets emerging, squealing indignantly.
Yes, smiled the Speaker. We are delighted to inform you that your pregnancy has resulted in triplet piglets. I am sure even though this is unexpected, you will be as thrilled as we here at the Fellowship are.
Lavender hoped Aspidistra liked piglets as much as the Fellowship clearly did …
December 21, 2008 at 6:30 pm #1258In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Well, what a coincidence!” exclaimed Bea, as her freind Baked Bean Barb described the book she had just started reading. It was all about ancient inscriptions in Antartica, which was what Bea had been reading about online just before Barb arrived.
“Some of it’s fact” Barb was saying “But the rest of it’s made up; interesting though!”
“Oh, I can’t wait til they find remains of the civilization under the ice there!” Bea said, to which Barb replied “There’s no civilization there. Nope. There’s nothing ever been found, nothing at all scientifically proven about that. The book’s fiction.”
“Well, they haven’t found it yet, Barb ~ if the scientists had proof, it would be found already. Until things are found they don’t exist?”
“There’s nothing there, there’s no proof!” Barb said firmly, shaking her head.
“What about all the new things we keep finding out about, before we knew about them, they didn’t exist, is that what you mean?” Bea persisted, trying to get her point accross. Then she wondered why she was trying to get her point accross in the first place. She knew what her point was.
Well, at least I think I do, she said to herself.
“Fancy a cuppa, Barb? Leo bought some nice nettle teabags, how’s that sound?”
“Ooh yes please! Got anymore of those gingerbread men?”
Sometimes the actual point wasn’t at all the same thing as the point you thought you were making. Bea gave herself points for noticing this, although she wasn’t at all sure what the point of the whole thing was, objectively anyway. Distraction tactics always worked, but once summoned, the distractions were indiscriminate and chaotic. On the way to the kitchen to put the kettle on, Bea glanced out of the window and noticed a shaft of light illuminating the rocks and casting deep shadows into the crevices, the resulting effect looking for all the world like mysterious ancient inscriptions. She reached out for her camera, which was always conveniently handy, as she strode out of the door, single minded in pursuit of the capture of a moment of light as if drawn by a magnet, or reeled in like a fish.
Barb eventually found her, some 57 minutes later, pruning the oleander down by the stream.
October 14, 2008 at 3:58 pm #1152In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Angela Wing was getting impatient. It had taken the fat white goose many months to reach a state of impatience, being such an accepting sort of creature, but really, she was wondering if she would ever have even so much as a walk in part in the Reality Play. Sure, she was a player behind the scenes, often appearing in the dreams of the players, but heck, a little bit of limelight would be nice occasionally.
She preened her brilliant white feathers, thinking how well they would show up under the lights, as it were. It was all very well lurking in the shadows of the ill remembered dreams all the time, but Angela felt the time was ripe for more exposure.
Becky yawned. Where on earth did that come from? she wondered, as she tried to rouse herself from her long nap. I wasn’t even dreaming about Angela Wing! All I can remember dreaming about is a book cover, something to do with eights…
August 20, 2008 at 11:26 am #1041In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“I want to go home”, sighed Jose. “I just want to go home.” He sighed again as he stood looking out of the cabin. What a mess it all was. Cyclone Ycart had left a trail of mangled wreckage in her wake, but it wasn’t just the devastation on the island, it was the atmosphere, the feeling of chaos, the sense of hidden turmoil permeating the place that made him weary and homesick.
“Ah, Joselito” Paquita whispered softly, stroking his hair gently “Why do you want to go home? What about the treatments?”
“Oh, bugger the treatments!” Jose frowned. “I don’t think I want the treatments any more, you know.” He looked at Paqui’s face. “I never even notice your skin anymore, I like it just the way it is. I don’t even worry about my scars any more, either.”
“I know what you mean” Paqui smiled. “I’m not worried about it either, anymore. I’d like to go home too now. The question is, though, how do we get off this god forsaken island?”
Jose sighed again. “God only knows”
Paqui took Jose by the hand and led him back inside the cabin. “Remember what I was telling you about the ancients dreaming together? How the tribe would dream together, plan where to go next? How they would work things out in their dreams? Let’s try it. Let’s go to sleep and when we wake up we’ll compare notes, and see if we can come up with a solution”
Jose smiled a crooked smile, thinking that sleep sounded as good as anything else he could think of to do. Well, perhaps there was one other thing. Jose winked at Paqui as he closed the door behind them.
When they woke up the sun was low enough on the western shore to cast long umber shadows across the cabin floor, and dust particles danced in the golden sunbeams. Jose woke first and lay still, savouring the remnants of dream images. He felt good; the indescribable sense of having accomplished some meaningful communications with known but elusive others that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, yet couldn’t deny the validity of. It was some minutes before he remembered the plan to dream of a solution to the problem of how to get off the island, and in an instant the well-being evaporated as he struggled to recall any useful details, and frustratingly found that he couldn’t recall a thing.
“Focus on the feeling, Joselito” a voice in his head said. The voice had come through loud and clear, a deep male voice with a hint of a merry chuckle. “Ha ha ha!” The voice boomed again, as if in response to Jose’s awareness of him. An image of dusty reddish skin, swathed in indigo blue cloth flashed through Jose’s mind, and then vanished like a particle of dust moving out of the sunlight into the shadows.
Paqui was beginning to stir, and started mumbling. “The pool, the rock pool, there’s a cave under the pool, hold your breath it won’t be long and out the other side…” She opened her eyes and sat up. “There’s a pool, Jose, and under the pool there’s a tunnel. That’s how we get off the island.”
Jose frowned. “Paqui, this island is in the middle of the ocean, miles from anywhere. Even if there is a tunnel, and even if it goes anywhere at all, it would take months to get to the mainland on foot!”
“Focus on the feeling, Joselito ~ Ha ha ha!” That voice in his head again! Jose was starting to think he was going mad. Suddenly he was filled with doubts and hopelessness. Everything seemed so utterly ridiculous. God, what was he doing here on this island! Everything was crazy here. If only he could just go home!
“Focus on the feeling, Jose.” The voice was gentle now, and kind. “The feeling will take you home”.
“I don’t know what you mean!” cried Jose in exasperation. “How can a feeling take me home? It’s not logical!”
Paqui smiled a wise old smile and said “If you can’t trust yourself, dear one, then trust me for now. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“But we don’t even know where the pool is! What if we can’t find it?”
“Focus on the feeling Jose, and trust that we will.”
August 9, 2008 at 8:15 pm #1026In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The GPS was indicating that she was getting closer every minute. She was at less than 8 minutes as the crow flies from the island.
She had to make a small detour to avoid the now less powerful but still dangerous cyclone Ycart, but all was under control.
The night had fallen upon her like a bird of prey, and cloaked in the velvety shadows, she smiled, baring her teeth full of squashed mosquitoes.All absorbed by the blinking lights of the GPS, and her head full of the roar of the wind and the raging sea, she sadly didn’t notice the hydroplane coming from her left at full speed.
The shock was brutal, and Madam Chesterhope got ejected from her motorbike which went with her alongside, spiraling down until crashed into the ocean.“WHAT THE…!”
We hit something! the distraught pilot shouted to Mahiliki.
Drawing his knife again, thinking of how close he was now to dear sweet Vera, he shouted back “any damage? how close are we now?”
“Seems OK, but what about the thing we hit?”
“Bugger it! Move!”June 28, 2008 at 1:32 pm #953In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Primary Becky woke up as the sun was sinking behind the coconut trees. The grounds of the Serendib Facility were striped with the long golden shadows of evening as Becky sat up in the wicker steamer chair, rubbing her eyes and mumbling the last few remembered words of a dream….. Luce is calling…which she promptly forgot.
Never one to keep a good thing to herself, Becky had a sudden impulse to call Tina in New Venice and tell her about Serendib. She loved the name Serendib: ‘serendipity.’ Becky had fallen in love with the magical island, and wanted to share it.
She had a feeling that Tina would like it here.
June 24, 2008 at 10:45 am #937In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Anu woke up, all was fuzzy around her. She could remember the movements inside the wortex, the strange feeling of being dissolved into a million particles, and falling quickly as if falling from the sky.
She was feeling alone. She wasn’t cold, but not comfortable either. The soil was damp, and rain was still falling were she was. Her little bag with her GameGirl Advanced was all stained by the brownish yellow mud, but it didn’t matter.
At every moment, she expected her friends to appear once again, but she started to fear they had gone forever. Araili with its pointy dark ears, and its soft fur, Yuki, and the others. Where were they?— Anita, are you alright?
The voice was familiar, she recognized the unshaved face of Akita emerging from the shadows, and felt relieved. And she started to remember… her parents? Were they okay? They were with Akita in his werelynx form back “thenre”…
— Your parents are alright… They started to wake up, they asked for you… But we shouldn’t stay here, we have to find a shelter, because I think one of the spiders is here, and she will want to build a nest…
Anita picked up her bag and started to follow Akita. A faint whisper made her turn her back to the spot were she was… there was nothing though. But she could have sworn she wasn’t alone…
December 6, 2007 at 8:55 pm #551In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
So tell me, Sanso said Arona, thinking she was alone, and somewhat startled to find herself lurking with Sanso in the shadows. Where have you been all this time?
December 6, 2007 at 8:38 pm #549In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
I wonder if it’s a private party, Sanso? Arona looked wistfully into the discave with its magical sparkling light and jolly music.
I don’t know, whispered Sanso.
Let’s just lurk for awhile and see if anyone else turns up.
Arona and Sanso huddled together in the shadows and watched.
November 21, 2007 at 9:32 pm #452In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The orchard was silent apart from the sweet cry of a flork. Arona particularly loved these mysterious and rare birds with their brightly coloured plumage. A late afternoon chill was in the air, and the shadows were lengthening. She shivered and wished she was sitting by the fire in the cave.
Lucille was silent and seemed to be waiting for Arona.
With a flash of clarity Arona realised she knew the answers to her questions already. She had no need to ask Lucille.
I have to hurry home now, she said to Lucille. “Home, hmmmm, what a funny word to use” flashed through her head, as the flork cried out again. She couldn’t wait to tell the others what she had learnt, even grumpy old Mandrake, who would surely say he knew it all already.
October 26, 2007 at 4:28 pm #381In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sam kissed Tina… a French kiss as usual. She had always love his way of kissing and as with the shift this kind mark of affection wasn’t much considered as belonging to bonded couples, Sam who loved kissing was really having a lot of fun.
He didn’t do that with everybody though, it had to come harmoniously, and with Tina it was always sparklingly funnily attractive.
She told him she loved the little pooh on his neck, and as he was explaining her it was a just burnt phoenix, the bird just rebirthed himself again in an atomic blow… the effects on Sam’s skin was a bit weird, flowing shadows and shades of greys and greens making him appear like a
for a few seconds.
Sean arrived in a bang at that moment, and Sam kissed him on the forehead… no mischievous kiss with him, his energy was directed subtly to another member of the T’mmm.
Adding his own playful energy to this Fairy Nuffy event, he went to talk with Tina and Al about Tina’s new nails cut.
October 21, 2007 at 1:33 am #324In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Yann was wandering about in a pet shop, looking for nothing in particular.
Quintin had said something about inserting the shift now… well, that sucked… Yann was in a very bad mood, feeling like everyone was against him, nothing was going as he wanted to, and most of all he had lost inspiration. No desire to draw, or to write anything. His life was not fitting. Or so it seemed.
Looking closer to the bird cages, and the birds inside, he was amazed at their similarities and their differences. Their shapes and sizes, their colors was the obvious parts. Their shouting also, it was quite messy, and stridulent. But what he noticed most was their behavior, some were just living their own life, proud of themselves and quite fearful when Yann was getting closer to the cage, and others were just flocking together like they couldn’t live apart. Some were singing, some crying, some just quiet and moving nervously or randomly…
He went to the parrots room, it was written babies on the cages… they were like full sized parrots to him, very big birds!!! very colorful and impressive. But looking closer, they were not so healthy, their feathers were sort of dull, and even bad shaped and like the parrot had been attacked savagely :yahoo_thinking:. Not very impressive eventually.
A few days ago things had become quite erratic at his work… he had felt a strong desire to change, change everything. First he couldn’t understand that desire and he resisted strongly, but soon he created some uncomfortable manifestations. Breathing difficulties, headaches, itching, and even boredom. He just felt the desire to tell bugger off to everyone.
The birds were getting boring actually, he left the shop.
Walking in the street among the crowd was kinda soothing his uneasiness… though at times he was like feeling what they were strongly projecting. There was that Muslim woman with her chador, and as she went right past him he had that twinge of anger against her, coming from nowhere, and as soon as he noticed that, he just moved his attention to his energy and it was over, no more anger or polarization. Was it his own feelings or was it from that young woman?
Whatever, he just enter another shop, home shop, with little thingies and furniture… all these statues, the ones looking like 1920’s ladies were the most appealing… and there were these fairies also, wasn’t it Fiona who had told him about a dream where she was the fairy princess?
Oh! that pic… the man had a blue skin… with dolphins on his face creating shadows… the pic was a blend of sort, very funny, and the man was cuteas was the shop assistant…
Time to leave… he went off the shop and continued walking. Bright sun, fresh air, all was clearing. His mood also. He thought again about what he and Quintin had been planning. It seemed something crazy, but it also seemed related to what was happening in his life. Since Vienna, their relation had become closer and closer, and for the most part it was very endearing, very fun and also very intense. All these energies, all this creativity, it had to be part of a bigger picture.
Thinking about that, his friend Dory had told him about a bigger picture once, and he was teasing her about that… but now it was making sense. His abilities to remember his dreams had increased in a way, though most of the time he did not remember his dream in the morning. He’d noticed he could if he was just relaxing a bit and let his attention go back to that dream self of his… At times he had also some weird experiences about parallel realities and shift of perception, like the room is translucent and he can move through it in another dimension, very freaky that one
October 5, 2007 at 11:55 am #261In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…
It said:
I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
Where time knows no ending and all is gray
And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.
He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.
Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.
She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…
The City, year 2255
Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.
It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.
Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.
When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.
Then she opened her eyes.
She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.
— Good morning!
— Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
— In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
— Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
— Correct.
— You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
— Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
— Oh, misconceptions?
— Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
— It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
— It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
— OK, I will do that…
— Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
— Oooh…
— You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
— Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
— Nothing is hidden from you, as always.So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.
— I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
— Thank you, said JaniceThe paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.
Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs
1. GUILT
a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.
Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.
b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.
2. FEAR
a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.
Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.
b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.
DUPLICITY
In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.
Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.
Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.
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