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  • #819
    EricEric
    Keymaster

      A man was walking on the narrow path shaded by the tall pandanus trees.

      Mahiliki was coming back from the sawmill where he worked, smiling to the people he met on his way back home. The island of Fikitupi was a small island in the Pacific, and he knew most of the people living around this small corner here.

      An old wizened lady with a toupee was busy weaving pandanus dried leaves into baskets and mats on the front door of her small house, while children were running to and fro among noisy chicken all around the place.
      Mahiliki smiled, fond as he was of Nanaiis, whom all children loved deeply, for she always had new tales for them to hear, and cheering words to share. She was quite intuitive, and had said to him years ago that his new girlfriend wouldn’t stay around and have lots of children.
      He didn’t want many children anyway… but as Nanaiis had said, Vera had left, not without saying she would come back though.
      Mahiliki didn’t count much on it, but he had all the time to wait for her. Life was calm and sweet here, and its appeal was great.

      At a short distance, he could spot the hut of O’panié and Twahissi. They were some funny strange hoots these two. Twahissi was the light-haired niece of O’panié and she was sharing with him her love for otherworldly matters. Twahissi’s parents had left her in his care, when they left to open a shop in the main island of the archipelago, and frankly, Twahissy was far more comfortable staying in Fukitupi where all felt magic to her.

      Mahiliki smiled when he finally understood they were trying to bury something near the culvert on the side of their hut. For apparently no reason, a month or two ago, O’panié had become interested in old papers and had become convinced that the date line was not only passing on the island of Fukitupi, but even more, it was passing right through his hut, and thus might explain his apparent sudden feelings of time loss.
      Some educated people had tried to reason him, but he’d stood fast in his opinion. Sightings of rainbow bubbletons by his niece Twahissi had him convinced even further that there was the possibility to improve this technique of time-travel. For as he crossed the bedroom he could step one day forward or backward! How thrilling it all was!
      Guess only the Elders knew what he was trying to bury now…

      Mahiliki could not but agree with him, as they were giving the whole village some pleasant laughing, and he had to admit that his enthusiasm was winning him more and more people to his quest. He wondered what sweet Vera would think of all of that, Cartesian as she was…

      #817

      How restless that dragon is, thought Arona. Always shifting this or that, always talking in his damn riddles. She thought fondly of Buckberry, and how peaceful and content he seemed by comparison.

      She was no longer sure where she was. She had gone over it a few times in her mind, but try as she might she could not make sense of Leormn’s cryptic explanations. Or that Malvina either, although at least she is a bit more pleasant about it.

      Anyway, wherever it is, it feels a bit grey, she decided matter-of-factedly. And I am missing the others, even that grumpy Mandrake if the truth be told.

      She closed her eyes and began to paint colours over the grey. She was not sure what to paint at first, so she just dabbed bright blobs of colour haphazardly onto her mind’s canvas. The colours began to run into each other and form shapes and it it seemed to her they wanted to take on a life of their own. So she let them, and it was not long before she found herself in a meadow of spring flowers.

      That’s much better, she thought, taking a deep breath and lying back in the soft green grass.

      :fleuron:

      As she lay there her mind drifted sleepily, butterfly thoughts every now and then resting on some bright petal in her field of flowers.

      Just living is not enough, said the butterfly as it danced by her head, one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.

      Oh! said Arona excitedly, recognising the words from a far away time, You must be the butterfly of the story! The one my grandmother used to tell me when I was a little girl in the Village.

      Perhaps I am! danced the butterfly and it whirled and twirled and swirled in the sky.

      Arona rolled her eyes in exasperation. Now you sound a bit like that wriggly dragon. A simple yes or no would suffice.

      The butterfly landed on her nose. Now listen here you! Don’t go blaming me. I am YOUR imagination!

      Oh good point Butterfly, said Arona graciously. She pondered a moment … Well in that case …

      And next moment Mandrake, Vincentius and Yikesy were sitting in the meadow with her.

      Oh THERE you are Missy, said Mandrake. Might have known you would be lying around in some spring meadow leaving Vincentius and myself to look after your little sprog. Tsk Tsk, he tutted.

      hmmm, thought Arona, that’s not quite what I had in mind ..

      I would have said it’s exactly what you had in mind, whispered the butterfly, fluttering by her ear and then off again until it disappeared into the field of colours.

      Arona turned her attention to Vincentius and Yikesy, sitting a short distance away in the meadow. She noticed how smooth and golden Vincentius’ skin looked in the morning sunlight, and how deep and melodic his voice was as he told Yikesy one of his seemingly endless repertoire of stories. Imagining a gentle hug and a kiss on his sweet, but it had to be said incredibly ugly face, she sent Yikesy into a peaceful sleep.

      Oh great idea, smiled Vincentius with a wink. What I had in mind all along really. Perhaps you could also imagine Mandrake chasing a field mouse or something?

      #1759

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        SOME OF TODAY’S SYNCHS:

        EGGLETON
        reading a magazine in cafe, kept seeing the name Elise Eggleton … a journalist, seems to report mainly on appearance medicine type stuff .. (wonder if she knows about Dr B?) :face-kiss:

        PINK PIXIES/PIXELS AND EASY
        Jib mentioned this morning pink pixies .. pixels? Today a woman emailed with a request for an accommodation gift voucher. I have not done gift vouchers before as the whole thing felt a bit complicated to organise … however decided it would be EASY so said YES we do gift vouchers. I looked at the clock on the computer and it was 1:23 just to confirm this easiness. She emailed straight back and said she wanted to go ahead and could i send her one in electronic format? Well I felt a bit stressed by this and not very creative and under time pressure :yahoo_worried: so looked up gift voucher templates. There were quite a few, one was called PINK PIXELS. After trying all of them out I decided to use this one, and with some modifications it actually looks really good. :yahoo_kiss: thank you Jib for your help. (not so easy to post gifts :yahoo_sad: )

        PINK AND POOH AND PANDA SYNCHS:
        This afternoon i went to visit my friend Katie. This might not seem momentous but the thing is she is one of my closest friends but i have not seen her for about 2 years. She only lives 10minutes drive away. We did not have a falling out or anything, but I just stopped making contact with people and have been quite introverted. Anyway there was no sense of not having seen each other for ages or anything … just the strange thing for me was that her children seemed to have grown so much. The two youngest ones, Emily and William, both were playing with bright pink balloons :balloon: and even though it was a hot day Emily had bright pink tights on. William wanted to show me his book. There were two pictures he loved and pointed out for me .. one was of a Panda which he said was the “cutest picture in the book”. The other one he loved he said was “POOH” and he was quite delighted with this. Well yes it was a picture of pooh believe it or not. It was a design of a castle and showed a big “long drop” and a man shovelling pooh at the bottom of it.

        RAT SYNCHS :mouse:
        A short while ago I googled rats as pets, not because I wanted one, just out of interest. I found it fascinating all the anecdotes about what good pets they are and how intelligent etc etc. :agreed: I found it interesting as they are an animal which is commonly hated by many people. Anyway Katie told me that her other daughter, Ella, came rushing home from Kindy School the other day saying she really REALLY wanted a rat as a pet and is quite determined to get one. Katie was not happy about this. I was able to share all my positive rat information with her and now I think Ella will get her rat. :yahoo_nerd:

        NUMBER PLATES
        On the way home I thought how wonderful all the synchs were, and as I thought this I saw YES 57. For a short while on the way home i followed ERIC 1. I also saw BEEZ. Also HONEY8, which is another variation of the HONEYB one I saw. I do find it interesting all these bee related number plates within such a small area. Related to this, Sir Ed was on the news tonight as the Queen had a memorial service for him today at St Georges Chapel in Windsor Castle. (sir Ed was the original HONEYB synch on the day he died at the age of 88, he was a HONEY BEE keeper as well as mountain climber – this explanation is for Tracy who finds it hard to remember things)

        555’S
        still seeing lots of these, the last two evenings have logged on at 5:55pm

        MISC:
        Mr X bought me some cookies with hunks of ginger in them. Also I bought myself some passionfruit yoghurt. But I don’t think that was a synch really. I think I bought it because I had been talking about them.

        oh that’s right, the girl buying the pink pixels gift voucher was also named Emily

        F :heart:

        #813

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        The bird squawked and cast a steely gaze on Franiel.

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

        #805

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

        :fleuron:

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

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

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

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

        Should I try the house? asked Franiel politely.

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

        #761

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

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

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

        Spirals make more sense than crosses….

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

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

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

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

        It is quiet and still.

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

        He traced a spiral in the dirt.

        Joys more than sorrows…

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

        #755

        — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

        — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

        — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

        — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

        — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

        — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

        — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

        — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

        — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

        — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

        — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

        — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

        — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

        — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

        — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

        — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

        — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

        — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

        — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

        — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

        — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

        — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

        — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

        #740
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Becky huddled behind a bush, shivering, and trying desperately to pull down the ridiculously short dress she was wearing.

          I can’t believe I came out wearing my honeymoon outfit, she grumbled crossly. No wonder that Gondola man kept sniggering and pulling his sweater down to his knees. PFFFT! The only nasty habit around here is not looking in the f’kin’ mirror before I leave the house.

          Becky tried to phone Al again, and then events took a turn for the worse. Her phone battery was dead.

          #1898
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
            tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
            tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
            tjmarshall57: veils
            tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
            tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
            tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
            tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
            tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
            tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
            tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
            tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
            tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
            tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
            tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

            Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

            tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
            tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
            tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
            tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
            tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
            tjmarshall57:
            tjmarshall57: another part for you!
            tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
            tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
            tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
            tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
            tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
            tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
            tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
            tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
            tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
            tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
            tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
            tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
            tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
            franci_free: oh hrllo
            franci_free: goodness
            franci_free: will need to read back
            tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
            franci_free: well what a complicated theme
            tjmarshall57: haahah well
            franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
            tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
            franci_free: hahahah
            franci_free: great!
            tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
            franci_free:
            tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
            tjmarshall57: the red fruit
            tjmarshall57: the time of year
            tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
            franci_free: the splotches?
            tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
            tjmarshall57: afterwards

            #1690

            In reply to: Synchronicity

            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Oxshift :yahoo_rofl:

              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.

              #703

              So you have requested audience… a deep voice, hoarse as a water’s torrent running and jumping on a river bed smothered with pebbles, asked from the darkness.

              Midora was not afraid of the darkness. As best as she could explain it, it was the void of creation, where everything came from, and where all was stripped of intrinsic meaning. It was from this place that she could reach for the answers.

              She knew this place, she felt memories swirling around, as uncatchable as a swarm of short-lived sparkles born from the reddish embers of a dying fire.
              In this lifetime, she was only a eleven year old girl, but she was as old as this voice within her. There was a time where she was playing with that voice, a time where her being was not yet, and yet a time which was in her future.
              She was pure consciousness in that dream time space, and yet, she was feeling more comfortable with physical symbols around herself. So she focused on one of the symbols that she knew would help her stabilize her vibration, and in doing so, all the small particles of golden light around her started to swirl and coalesced into a dream body.

              She was in front of a cave, in a mountainous area. This body provided her a slowing down of the stream of information that came to her, and she could manipulate more efficiently the interaction with that huge presence she felt. The precipitous rocky environment was a symbol of that steadiness and slowing down and also, for her benefit of her beliefs in that acquiring such information might be a difficult task.
              Now she had identified it, she could more easily dispel the obstacles on the path to the cave. The cave of course, was her symbol for reaching into her deep inner nature. And the darkness was only a fitting blank canvas for herself to project and translate the energy interactions.
              All of that she knew, as it was knowledge embedded into herself that she could more easily access into this trance-like state, in her room in that location in space and time of 2112 in New Venice. And she knew that also for she was taught by her parents, Bart and Oscar, on how to access it.

              The voice was inside the cave. And no sooner had she thought of it that she was finding the whole place morphing into a vast room built into the rock, in the middle of which a majestic golden dragon was slowly breathing.
              She had translated the vast energy as that of a dragon, but she knew when she felt into it that it had possible variations, one of which being that of a she-phoenix, of various sizes, where sizes where symbolic of its age and wisdom.

              You may call me Naasir the dragon grinned at Midora. You are right, in a sense, you can consider yourself being born from me, though in your true form, you are equally august and splendid as I am. You will, in time, have access to that form, again. But for now, I can provide some answers to your questions. The only thing is… Are your questions up to the challenge? he added with the most benevolent smirk his wide toothed grin could convey.

              Midora pondered for a moment, beholding the perfection of her translation of the energy. Each scale on the body of the dragon was a work of art. His half-closed eyes, with an amber shiny center, and teal border were equally mesmerizing.

              :fleuron:

              — What is the significance of these books I have inherited from my parents?

              As you know, this place is the place were significance fades away, or radiates, depending on the direction in which you look, only to be replaced by fulfillment. Your… books hence, have no significance, I would say, for me at least. What do you want to know about them?

              — They were passed from people to people, and as far as I understood, they started to be imprinted with these people’s stories, starting from my grand-parents Indy and Cuthbert. But there are still blank pages inside them, and no seeming order from one page to the other. I think that’s why my grand-parents grew tired of it.

              Continue…

              — What I mean is… I feel attracted to them, and yet I don’t understand how they work…

              These… are not mere books as your ancestors understood them. In fact, they were crafted by a distant civilization, not denizens from this dimension in which you are presently focused, but travelers, with whom you can still interact by means of this device. When the “books” traveled into this dimension, they retained their initial properties and functioning, but their initial shapes were translated into something as close as you could understand so that you would allow them to appear into your reality. This knowing might help you unravel their true nature.

              Another thing. Books are energy deposits, in your reality. There was a misunderstanding in that they were thought to be able to liber or to free your memory by imprinting it into the pages, but memories are alive and not separate from you. They live as you live and change them. So, the books are still being written, and that which you can read is the part of the book which is the most probable story in which you choose to insert yourself, so as to explore it. You can alter these probabilities, even if you might doubt it, but as you chose them, they are much a part of your design of your reality, that which you chose to explore. In short, a complete book means the end of your exploration, and prompts for a disengagement for you to continue other explorations, and on the contrary, a blank books means a boundless realm of probable explorations.

              — Can you tell me why there are two of them?

              They are more than a couple. These ones are the only known ones that your ancestors happen to have found. Most of them have been destroyed over time in this dimension, as their possibilities were heavily cloaked. They are all linked together, as you will find out. You may gather some answers in finding Badul

              And with that, Midora was once again floating in an intermediate state hung between space and time, longing for her physical body. She woke up strangely energized…

              #689
              EricEric
              Keymaster

                These are MY eggs! Nobody touches my eggs!
                Oh come on, you’re not gonna make these ostrich eggs hatch Cathy… Better have them made into a nice big omelet for our guests… Fleur said with a tentative smile.
                And why use MY eggs for that?! Moooom, she’s trying to steal my eggs…

                What’s with all that fuss here? a coarse, yet sensual female voice said in the background of the kitchen.
                Mom, she wants to make an omelet with the eggs that granddad gave me…
                Calm down Catherine, will you… Is that true Fleur?
                Err… Madam Wrick, I suppose it was only a stupid joke… Thing is that wasn’t such a bad idea… There will be quite a few guests tonight, and… she began to falter as the eyebrows of Dorean Wrick were taking a more severe look. Err… I’m sorry, M’am, I’ll send Raster fetch some food for a nice meat pie, will it be nice?
                Perfect. That settles the matter then… Catherine, go back to your room, and let Fleur work. I’ll send you a maid to help you be prepared for our guests arrival.
                Yes, Mum.

                What a silly idea Theobald, her father have had, to give her step-daughter those eggs for her birthday… Big funny green eggs. He’d said they were ostrich eggs, but there were no ostrich in Mexico, as far as she knew. Of course, now the little girl’s only idea was to have the birds hatch and to mount them and ride in the slopes of Ireland.
                This family was definitely insane, Dorean was thinking.
                At least, she had thought her own branch of the family tree had been spared by the folly of her relatives and their attraction for occult and intangible things, but with that odd gift, it seemed to her more than likely that her father had followed the steps of his wricked brother… Or perhaps it was only an old man’s way of passing time. But knowing her father down-to-earth nature, that was not like him. He didn’t do things out of a whim, and there was probably more than met the eye having to do with the funny eggs…

                A few days ago, shortly after New Year’s eve and stepping into year 2034, she’d had received an unexpected parcel from her cousin, Sean Doran. A couple of wrapped books, he was asking her to keep in store for him. She always had liked her cousin, though they had only met two or three times when they were children. Thing was, family matters were more a wrickage than anything else, and they had barely kept in touch over the years.
                She had distractedly opened the big ornate leather-bound books only to discover they were blank. What was the purpose of all of this, she didn’t know. But unlike most people, Dorean wasn’t interested in others’ businesses. She would keep the books, whatever they meant.

                And she had more pressing matters now.
                Her guest were coming. Elvira and her demented husband were moving back, and were due to arrive tonight after a rather long expatriation in the lands of Russia. Having met that strange and impressive individual, the perspective of getting away in a foreign land leaving all the past behind, all of this had most probably saved Elvira from her depressive mood…
                But she had been so isolated from her past that Dorean suspected that these almost thirty years abroad would have changed her profoundly.

                #1677

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  tjmarshall57: I better make the next synch comment, its 157
                  franci_free: oh good well
                  franci_free: do you need help
                  tjmarshall57: no I just tossed out a short rather pointless comment
                  franci_free: okay well i hope it isn’t too rubbish
                  tjmarshall57: just to keep my comments tally up and get the 57 one
                  tjmarshall57: fairly rubbish really
                  tjmarshall57: but it shows I am IN the loop and Paying attention
                  franci_free: well i did 158
                  tjmarshall57: ahahhahaha

                  #684

                  « … 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.

                  #681
                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    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…

                    #675

                    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.

                    #673

                    Franiel felt an unaccustomed tiredness. The changes of late, his own indecision as to his path, were taking a toll and his spirit felt heavy. Despite the admonitions of Aum Geog to make all haste on this journey he decided to rest, and finding some soft grass under the shelter of a tree he sank gratefully down into it’s embrace.

                    Just a short sleep, he thought drowsily.

                    He was awakened by some gentle drops of rain falling on his cheek. Not knowing how long he had slept for, and seeing the darkness of the clouds in the sky, Franiel realised he had best find some shelter of a more permanent nature to wait out the storm.

                    Franiel, he heard his name being whispered in his thoughts, it was no louder than a clear sky, but rang as clear as any sound he had ever heard.

                    Follow me!

                    And Franiel followed. Though he knew not what spirit it was leading him, he went swiftly to the entrance of a cave set in the side of the hill, as though he had known of it’s whereabouts all along. Just in time, for with a deafening clap of thunder, the heavens opened.

                    From the shelter of the little cave Franiel looked out and felt a mixture of exhileration and awe at the power of the mighty elements he was witnessing . Though he kept his body dry, he sent his spirit out to dance in the rain, and laughing softly to himself, he at last felt the greyness of the last few weeks begin to ascend, as though lifted by the hands of angels, said the soft voice in his head.

                    Who are you? whispered Franiel, feeling an inexplicable and sudden longing.

                    :fleuron:

                    It was the next day before Franiel was able to continue his journey. Making himself a small meal of bread and cheese from his provisions, checking that his precious cargo was secure in his pack, he set out feeling refreshed.

                    #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.

                    #2100
                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      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]

                      #658
                      EricEric
                      Keymaster

                        The new shop was splendiferous. It had all people could imagine about pets and stuff, pets most people wouldn’t have imagined existed. There was even a whole division for the pets health, with permanent vets…

                        The “Rent’a Pet Shop, Boy!” was taking a whole building, with no less than thirteen storeys, and when Sidonie entered the huge hall at the ground floor, which was slightly above the waters’ level, she was awed by the quantity of animals which where stored in the facility.
                        She didn’t know what she wanted for a start and now she was beginning to feel lost.

                        A beautiful tall black woman, with short hair and wearing an ample avocado-coloured boubou and carrying a little dog close to her chest passed by her and Sidonie could hear her muttering apparently incoherent bits to herself
                        Come on Chumpy, the doctor said it will be alright after that surgery, here, here little thing, breathe, breathe and say YES… Oh Lordy, I’m gonna be late, and Sam will be bugged if I make him wait in his friend’s flying car…

                        Sidonie was mesmerized by the woman, who suddenly turned to face her and said winkingly “I’d rather not go for a squawking parrot if I were you, they can’t keep quiet… and not a magpie either… Al said this new breeds of nine-tailed foxes are great, but I can’t really get used to anything else but dogs… Oh, I must go, need to have the last alterations done on my wedding gown… How can they expect that I remember all of this!

                        And the woman went running out of the shop…

                        Sidonie was baffled… A nine-tailed fox… Why not, sounded like a nice idea. At least, she could start by renting it, and if it was a nice companion and Tonio was OK with it, she would adopt it…

                        She asked a vendor where was the fox section. The vendor took a very professional look to ask her if she meant the new genetically engineered breed of foxes, or the classical breeds, desert, arctic or continental…
                        Sidonie was lost for a moment, then remember the lady had said they were new breeds, so she asked for the new ones in an intimidated voice.

                        Upstairs, thirteenth floor, on your right after the jump said the vendor and beware of the shrimpigators

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