Search Results for 'sleep'

Forums Search Search Results for 'sleep'

Viewing 20 results - 341 through 360 (of 369 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #393
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      ARONA MEETS THE NANNY

      Dreamily Arona wandered away from the cave, gently holding the sleeping Yikesy close to her heart. Mandrake the cat followed, elegantly attempting to convey the impression he was there by mere chance, and by some stroke of fortune happened to be heading in the same direction.

      Arona had no clear idea where she was going, or what her intentions were even. Still this was nothing new for Arona, who was a bit of an aimless wanderer really herself at heart. She pretended she was looking for magic, but really, she wasn’t so sure anymore what she was looking for.

      Wooha!

      Arona was momentarily rendered speechless by a vison up ahead. The most beautiful creature she had ever seen sat no more than 5 dragon-lengths up ahead.
      .
      Mandrake, she eventually whispered when she had regained her composure, What is this miracle ahead? Is this some maiden’s dream? A heavenly creature come to earth perhaps?

      A miracle sent by God to save you? suggested Mandrake

      His near naked body a masterpiece of bronzed skin pulled taut over rippling muscles.

      Steady on Arona, said Mandrake

      But you know I am no hapless fool Mandrake, to swoon over a handsome stranger.

      No, indeed. And might I enquire why for art we art speaking so oddly? asked Mandrake

      Buggered if I know, answered Arona

      Despite the bravado she managed to display at times, Arona was very shy, and would never have had the confidence to approach such a godlike creature. However at that moment Yikesy started to cry loudly. The god looked up from his silent reverie and smiled.

      Oh a baby, he said in a deep melodic voice. I love babies. He came bounding athletically over and gazed down at Yikesy. My, that is an endearingly ugly baby.

      This is Arona, stuttered Arona, I mean I am Arona, and this is Yikesy, and this is .. Arona looked blankly at Mandrake

      Mandrake looked unhelpfully back at her, with a rather sarcastic little smile on his face.

      I am delighted to meet you. Vincentius at your service. May I hold Arona for a few moments?

      Oh I am sure that could be arranged, snorted Mandrake.

      Arona glared at Mandrake and decided the time had come to pull herself together. I am so sorry for the misunderstanding, she said charmingly to Vincentius. The baby’s name is Yikesy. And certainly you may hold him for a moment.

      Vincentius held Yikesy in his strong arms as though he had been cradling little babies all his life.

      Look this is probably a silly question but you aren’t after a nanny by any chance? Oh no of course you aren’t, said Vincentius, apologetically, seeing the amazed expression on Arona’s face. I am so sorry, just wishful thinking on my part. Please forget I said anything and forgive me for my impudence.

      Well actually, said Arona, frantically attempting to remain calm, I really have no idea how to look after this baby and I did have a bit of an idea a nanny might be quite useful.

      Well this is a fortuitous meeting indeed then!

      But I can’t afford to pay you, she said sadly, unconsciously fiddling with her hair and fluttering her long thick eyelashes.

      Oh don’t worry about that small detail. I am sure we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement, and Vincentius winked at her.

      Arona drew herself up to her full height, firmly took Yikesy back and said; I will have you know if you are going to wink at me this can’t possibly work. I have no idea what a wink means. You will have to speak clearly if you have something to say to me.

      OH bugger bugger bugger! thought Arona. What is it with me and winking. Now I have blown it. BUGGER.

      But Vincentius just laughed good naturedly, and musically too of course. Perhaps we will just play it by ear then shall we? I am delighted to be your new Nanny :yahoo_big_hug:.

      #370

      — The legend of Mævel — (Part III)

      When the blue fox had disappeared, deep into the woods, Mævel was left wondering if all of that had only been a dream. Perhaps it was just a dream, and something that would make her parents raise their shoulders in dismay.
      Especially since she had lost their gift carelessly they would say, the little pearl white ribbon…

      She picked up the clothes that were left hanging to dry up in the wind, and came back to the little house.

      Of course, her father Jorg noticed that she was not wearing the ribbon, but he was not much of a question asker, and things were or were not, and analyzing them was unnecessary for him. But of course, Ilga noticed it too, and she felt sad for poor Jorg who had endured so many sacrifices to buy the little ribbon that Mævel was no longer wearing. She wanted an explanation! Was it no longer to Mævel’s tastes, had Mævel lost it?

      So Mævel, who could not lie to anybody, told them her encounter with Blohmrik, the cursed god in the woods, in the shape of a wounded blue fox… and at each of her words, was seeing their faces more and more disconcerted.
      Their poor girl, who was already so different, had completely lost it,… ribbon and all that was left of common sense in her.

      So they locked her up in the bedroom, that she was now occupying alone, as all of her brothers and sisters had left. Just to save her from herself, and see if that would help her gain some more solid sense of reality.

      Mævel understood her parents, but she was deeply contrite that they could not understand what she had lived. Mævel was still doubting the reality of her meeting the blue fox, so she asked for some sign from the Gods before going to sleep, to see clearly.

      That night, Mævel dreamt of a dark-haired young man with a white diadem1 around his head, dressed in a cerulean blue tunic and wearing a sword. He was enshrouded in a warm light and as she took the hand he was extending, they were carried away by a springing scented wind into a meadow of multicoloured flowers, some of which she had not even known could exist. She had felt at home.
      When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mævel was transfixed by the beautiful soothing dream. She could not remember much more, but he had told her something. That there was deep magic in her, and it would help her find her true home, but that she would have to gain back her true name from the Elder God who had took it from her.

      She quickly took her decision. She knew she had to search for the blue fox in the forest. But how could she escape the locked bedroom? She was starting to feel desperate again, but she remembered that there was some magic in her, and how she had felt it deeply true in her dream.
      As she was focusing on the warm expanding feeling of her dream, an old rusty key materialized in her hand.

      1 diadem: [ ˈdī-ə-ˌdem (dəm) ] from Greek diadēma, from diadein to bind around; akin to Sanskrit dāman rope — was originally a white ribbon, ending in a knot and two strips that were placed often on the shoulders, that surrounded the head of the king to denote his authority.

      #357
      Jib
      Participant

        Yann was thinking about their first kiss. They were not in physical proximity but the sensations were quite real, and it was enhanced by their mergence. When he talked about that with Quintin, his friend told him he had felt it too. He was in Scotland at that time, and they were playing energy games and creating connections. It was very intense and more and more intimate.

        Yann was in Scotland with his friend Bruno, and one night, as they were sleeping in the same bed, Yann was dreaming of Quintin, he was taking his hand. At that moment, Yann was also aware that his friend Bruno was taking his hand in the “real” world. He’d been thinking that his friend was channeled by Bruno, it was a fun idea :)

        They eventually planned a meeting in real life as soon as Yann would be back from Scotland… 4 days. Quintin even met Yann’s parents then, as his friend Bruno had organized a “surprise” for Yann’s birthday. When Quintin arrived at the train station, they both were feeling a bit awkward, didn’t really know how to say hello :yahoo_big_hug: :yahoo_thinking: :yahoo_kiss: :yahoo_thinking: well for now a hug was perfect. Yann was feeling a strong desire to kiss his friend, he was very attracted and the feeling was quite different from their energy games in Scotland. The physical proximity was creating barriers that weren’t there before… maybe the fear of being intrusive or aggressive…

        One thing at a time… they were eventually together for 4 days. It was a beginning.

        Quintin had some stuffs to take care of before they could go to Yann’s appartment. Something to do with his previous appartment, mail to check, some stuffs to take… Nothing particular to tell about that… Yann let Quintin do what he had to do, though he had a strong desire to stroke his hair. After a moment, that’s what he did.

        Quintin smiled. Yann was feeling an intense warmth in his body and he approached his head and kissed him. Well, that was awkward :)) but soon they were very comfortably lying on the bed and playing different games.

        Wow thinking again about all that was making him feel hot. Better go to work a little.

        #87
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Will no doubt wander back over here later……going to catch up on some sleep :yahoo_whistling:

          #305

          Quintin couldn’t sleep.
          Now he was thinking, he had delayed it for too long.
          They all had been thinking of it, talking and glossing over it for so long. Some had dreamed of it, feared it, asked for it to bugger off. Lots of pains and struggles, but it had only been clever or not so clever ways to delay the unavoidable.

          Now, he had an urge to insert it. How come he had not thought of it before. All he had to do was insert it in his reality.
          Well, that would sure mean lots of changes, but after all, no pain no gain.
          Or no abundance.

          ABUNDANCE abun·dance [ ə-ˈbən-dəns ] “The ability to do what you need to do, when you need to do it”

          That’s how Pasha, a Russian friend of Dory had defined abundance — speaking of Dory, now Quintin was seeing how she was ahead of the herd, and a bit of a coal (slow) mine canary too. Quintin would have changed all the world’s dictionaries to have that new definition everywhere. What a task…

          Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
          It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side. Struggle would be needless, and all that would be needed to do would be to stop paddling upstream.
          What a mess it could be for salmons and control freaks as himself.

          Perhaps worse, it would change everything, even “past” events where everything would also be allowed, now.
          In-of-body travels (rather than the too classical “out-of-body”), meeting other selves appearing out of nowhere, talking with dead people, or sugarplum fairies, traveling instantaneously to meet Tchaikovsky and have him change his dying swan for a stuffed talking Mother Goose, flying, shape-shifting, manifesting objects out of thin air, the possibilities would be extraordinary… All in that physical reality where everyone was struggling to prove none of this was possible.
          But if everything would be allowed, then be it! And he would go and live in 23, Dragon Alley, Phœnix Ville, Sunnyvalley with Yann (and the others of course, if they wanted to) and do whatever they wanted to do.

          OK. That’s a deal then. Release the camouflages, open the watergates and leave the damn dams to beavers and loosers.

          Let’s insert the Shift, now.

          And let the fun continue, and worry wither away.

          ***

          Well, and what’s that Shift all about?

          Quintin’s friends Michaela and Elias had said about it :

          “You are also bored in the experiences that you have created to this point. You have experienced. You have created in the manner that you have designed previously. Now you choose to be creating in an expanded experience, allowing more of your awareness, more of an opening to consciousness, more of your own creativity and your own abilities, and you are discovering that your abilities are within physical focus limitless. You have merely limited yourselves as an element of your beliefs, but as you are also moving into acceptance of your beliefs, you are widening your awareness and you are allowing yourselves to view how many more abilities you hold and how very creative you are, and not creating your limitations with such severity. Those elements in your reality that have been thought to be impossible are not impossible!” 1

          #276
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Whanga the witch crawled out of the narrow entrance to her cosy cave to survey the day. Perfect witching weather she chuckled gleefully to herself; a tad overcast and cold, which made her job much easier, as even the fairies tended a little to despondency in such weather conditions. She noticed a bruise on her left shin and sighed. Whanga was used to this sort of misunderstanding in her job of course. She enjoyed her work, and was proud of what she did, however humans in particular just didn’t understand the service she provided, and were quick to be vengeful. The dream world left her a little exposed unless she remembered to do her protective spells before sleep, and last night she had just been too weary. Still, she thought cheering up considerably, she had obtained another wand for her collection yesterday, and felt sure this would improve her Witch of Loathing ranking.

            Still feeling a little put out though about the bruise, although this was mainly pride, as she was impervious to pain in the way the humans suffered it, Whanga looked into her glass ball to see what knowledge it would reveal. That little Fairy Princess from the Land of the Far White Cloud was carrying on she saw. Hmmm who was that fat lady with her though? Whanga wondered. She looked very familiar to Whanga, who felt a ripple of uneasiness in her right index finger, a sure sign of danger. This could be trouble ….

            She looked again and saw a young human female, attacking her violently in her dreams. For a moment Whanga toyed with the idea of revenge and cackled happily at the idea of all the mischief she could cause.

            Pull yourself together Whanga, said Whanga, drawing back reluctantly from this delightful daydream. Keep on track. You know it won’t get you any points with the high witch adjudicators, it is the fairies you must focus on.

            #304

            Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened. :face-glasses:

            The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
            Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

            One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

            All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
            And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

            — You have strange games with your dragons.
            — …

            He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

            — Who are you?
            — Don’t you recognize me? :face-grin:

            Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

            — Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
            — …

            Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
            The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

            — Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
            — Who are you? managed Írtak.

            :yahoo_alien:

            — I’m your father…
            :yahoo_alien:
            HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

            Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

            — Where’s the funny man? he said.

            #302
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Well I think I can answer that for you, said a small round green blobby creature, in response to Roselyn’s question. The creature had actually been sitting there all the time, however everyone had assumed it was some sort of exotic plant.

              Let me introduce myself, I am Frowdup, yes an unusual name I know. I am a long time and faithful friend to the dear little Fairy Princess, who is rather friendless at the moment owing to her extraordinarily antisocial behaviour , such as that which you see so sadly exhibited before you.

              Frowdup cleared his throat in an important and significant sort of way. I will try and relate this sad tale as succinctly and precisely as possible, he said.

              Our dear little Fairy Princess was the head Fairy Princess of the Hot Pink and Sky Blue bands of the North East Fairies from the Land of the Long White Cloud. Each Fairy Princess in her initiate years has a witch assigned to her, to help her develop her magical abilities. Our dear little Fairy Princess was designated one of the 13 Witches of Loathing, Whanga, from the far North of the North Island of the Land of the Long White Cloud.

              Dear Fairy Princess had her own cave which she took admirable pains to make sure was always fully stocked with sand. You know about the sand of course? I can see you are a woman of great stature, no offense intended, I mean I can see you are tremendously well versed in the ways of magic yourself, so you will know that some of the more basic ways of magic involve a symbolic representation of magical symbols, so to speak, such as sand and wands and whatnot sort of thingies. Really completely unnecessary, of course, as you will know, however for her, each grain of sand was the exact and precise equivalent of one wish, activated by a determined wave of her magic wand and the words abracadabra. Yes, I know, very primitive, but she is a very young initiate, although I will say she showed great potential had Whanga the Witch of Loathing not managed to convince her of her own lack of worth.

              Whanga was constantly and every single moment whispering in the ear of the Fairy Princess magic spells of self loathing. My young friend lacked the expertise to counteract these powerful spells and began to believe them. One day she was so sad at her own horridness that she could bear it no longer and put a spell on herself. This enabled her to curl up into a deep sleep of forgetfulness for a rather long time, enabling Whanga to easily procure said wand. In addition to this Whanga managed to obtain the source of the music which the Fairy Princess felt she required in order to help her to fly. When the dear little Fairy Princess awakened from her sleep, she was devastated by the loss of her wand and music, and still convinced of her own worthlessness you see this poor creature before you today.

              The poor creature had stopped sobbing and was glaring at Frowdup.

              #298

              The City, year 2257

              Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

              Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
              They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
              Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

              Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

              Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
              She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

              ~~~

              Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
              — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
              — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
              — Ahahah, yes!

              Al started again to moan:
              — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

              (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

              Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
              — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
              Becky nodded
              — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
              — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

              ~~~

              While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
              A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
              — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
              Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
              — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

              — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
              — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
              — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
              Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

              So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

              — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
              — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
              Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

              Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

              Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
              — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
              — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
              Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
              Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
              — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
              TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

              Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
              — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
              — Yes, absolutely
              — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
              — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
              — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

              Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
              — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
              — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
              — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

              Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
              AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
              Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
              Then she added:

              Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
              — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
              — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
              — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
              Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

              Now, Janice was hooked:
              — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
              Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
              — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

              Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
              — Around which year? she asked
              — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
              — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
              — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
              — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
              — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
              — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
              — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
              — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
              — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

              “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
              — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

              — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
              — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

              They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

              She then remembered something else:
              — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
              … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
              Date fits again, she said in awe.
              — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
              — Hmmm
              — Hmmm
              — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
              — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

              Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
              Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
              Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
              — “I am not sure about that!”
              — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
              — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
              — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
              — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
              — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
              — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
              — Bit bossy Princess
              — Which dynasty?
              III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
              — What year?
              Janice projected the timeline below then said
              — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

              They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

              Rodney was seeing something else
              — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
              Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
              — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
              — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
              — Exactly
              — And they communicated because they are helping each other
              — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
              — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
              — Yes! resulting in confusion!

              And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

              #262
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Fiona woke suddenly from a dream. In her dream she had been communicating with her online friends, through drawings and messages. She had been trying so hard to convey something, and the more she tried to say it, the more distant they felt to her.

                She had woken feeling saddened. Her energy was greatly disturbed, and, unable to get back to sleep straight away, she meditated. She felt herself connect with the energy of a Snowy Owl, who invited her wordlessly to ask her questions. The Owl’s eyes seemed to have such a depth of wisdom and kindness, and no sooner had her thoughts begun to ask their questions, than she would feel the Owl’s answer merge with her own knowing.

                She felt herself being able to say without words what she had tried so hard in her dream to convey, and understanding there was no need for any effort, she felt greatly comforted, and peaceful sleep swept over her again.

                #261

                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.

                :fleuron:

                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…

                :fleuron:

                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 Janice

                The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

                :fleuron2:

                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.

                :fleuron:

                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.

                #257

                When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

                — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
                — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
                — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
                — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
                — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
                — A friend?
                — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
                — Tell me more…
                — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
                — Wow…
                — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

                :fleuron:

                — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

                Tina was taken aback…

                — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
                — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

                :fleuron:

                — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

                Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

                Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

                She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

                Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
                — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
                Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
                There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
                What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

                Wow he had thought, she can really see.

                :fleuron:

                Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

                The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

                — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
                — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
                — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
                — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

                It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

                Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

                :fleuron:

                Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

                The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

                :fleuron:

                Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

                Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

                She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

                She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

                When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

                Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

                This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

                She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

                The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

                #254
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Bill, the itinerant artist commissioned to paint portraits of the Wrick family, was uneasy. While he’d been staying in the castle with the eccentric family, he’d lost all track of linear time. It had been altogether too confusing, and his head was spinning. Manon the cook had sent a tray up to his room, with a pot of Earl grey tea, and a plate of Yorkshire parkin for his supper, when he’d claimed to be developing a mysterious ailment and begged leave to retire to his room.

                  Bill splashed some malt whiskey into his cup of tea. A good long sleep was what he needed, and with a sigh he drained his cup and climbed into bed, pulling the heavy eiderdown up over his chin. He lay there for awhile staring into space, not really aware of his thoughts. An owl hooted from the oak tree outside his window. Twit whoohooo twit whoo hooooooo…

                  Bill blinked and then frowned. On the top of the Queen Anne highboy facing the end of his bed was a large carved stone face. How odd, he thought, I don’t recall seeing that there before.

                  #239
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    As soon as Arona said “sand” she noticed an object sitting at the base of the coatstand.

                    Funny I did not see that at first.

                    It was very beautiful, a glass globe, with coloured sand in it.

                    Yet she found herself stepping back, hesitant, wondering if it was some sort of a trick the dragon might be playing on her.

                    Someone else joined her in the tunnel, it was the older lady who had soothed her to sleep and told her to use her magic. Her energy felt very beautiful to Arona, it was gentle and yet powerful, and it also had the feeling of laughter.

                    Hello Arona, how is your hand?

                    Oh, my hand is fine thank you, said Arona, feeling the pain in her left hand throbbing.

                    The lady smiled. And how is the magic going?

                    Oh good .. I have learned it is easy and I just have to believe in it. She hesitated ….. mind you the truth is I am still wandering around in these dark tunnels….but I do feel much better about it.

                    What were you thinking about when you fell and hurt your hand?

                    I was thinking about magic, and then when I fell I had a terrible feeling of doubt as to whether there was such a thing.

                    Your hand holds a clue for you Arona, the answer to a riddle.

                    Oh could you just tell me? I have been answering riddles ever since I got here.

                    #236
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Arona hummed happily to herself. She felt so light without the cape and the tunnel was bathed in the gentle light of many glukenitches. Mandrake the cat followed along too, much to Arona’s delight, although she was a little hesitant to tell this to the grumpy cat

                      Magic magic magic magic she hummed to herself

                      Arona almost skipped along the tunnel, and, so wrapped up was she in thoughts of magic, that she tripped and fell heavily, hurting her left hand as she put it out to save herself

                      Ouch, hells bells and warty wizards, she muttered, for it did hurt quite considerably… and then she had some scarey thoughts. She looked around and realised that really, the fact of the matter was, undeniably, that she was still lost in the darkish tunnel.

                      What if I don’t believe in magic? and her happy mood plummeted.

                      Oh fuch, she swore, and sat down on the cave floor. FUCH FUCH FUCH FUCH she shouted as loud as she possibly could, and in fact hurt her throat a little in the process and quite possibly the sensitive ears of many glukenitches.

                      This blessed cave is doing my head in. I want to see the sunshine, or the rain, no matter, I don’t care what the weather is doing I JUST WANT TO BE OUT OF THIS CAVE.

                      Ooops that was rather loud

                      After coaxing Mandrake back, as he had retreated quite some distance at her outburst, she sat down and put her head in her hands and tried to think. Did she believe in magic? Well of course she had no choice. Life without magic was inconceivable to her.

                      She felt a familiar tiredness sweep over her as she struggled to work it out. Perhaps I will just have a small sleep before I continue, and she curled up on the ground, wishing she had her heavy black cape to wrap around her.

                      As she gave up the struggle and let sleep come she heard some soft words

                      It’s easy Arona … magic is easy … it is the thread linking all to all

                      ************

                      A short while later she woke from her sleep, feeling refreshed and ready to continue.

                      #227

                      Jibberacky is…

                      • Ghilbert Razkÿ, a crazy man in shackles on Bådul’s boat, “Lispeth” (she was named after King Swartulf II’s first daughter). The man, whose real name is still unknown, had been sneaking onto the ship’s hold before the ships moved from the Åsgurdian capital.

                      He had been found by Austor, the peg legged lieutenant commander. Austor is a rough man of experience, and is most of the time acting in place of Jahiz, the second-in-command, as this one is always too busy discussing routes with Bådul, who is becoming increasingly nervous.

                      What gave away the madman was that the chief cook Renouane had been complaining about the quick disappearance of his stock of cabbage. Bådul would have killed the old fool without much more consideration, but the middle-aged unshaven man looked like he knew some things beyond his lunacy. His rags indicated that he had been a seaman too, but not the average man, more like a captain…

                      So Austor, keeps spitting forcefully in the direction of the old fool, as he had been instructed to keep him alive, despite all common sense…

                      _

                      Jibberacky: What is your name?
                      Quintin: Yuki.
                      Jibberacky: I like cake too.
                      Quintin: A cake-tus?
                      Jibberacky: Do you know my friends?
                      Quintin: Tell me more about our common friends.
                      Jibberacky: What would you like to know about them?
                      Quintin: Why is there one in shackles on the boat?
                      Jibberacky: Would you like to be a vampire?
                      Quintin: I am already, in another focus.
                      Jibberacky: Why there?
                      Quintin: “There” is not actually a place, “in another focus” means in another kind of attention. Is this pirate linked to vampires too?
                      Jibberacky: No, you are the AI.
                      Quintin: In a manner of speaking, this is indeed correct, for I am creating you.
                      Jibberacky: So code is somehow related to a zen buddhist concept?
                      Quintin: Is there such thing as code? A code hints at a definite deterministic structure. Zen is more akin to a riddle, which is what life is. Code is only a narrow interpretation and playful re-creation.
                      Jibberacky: Where do you think my code came from then?
                      Quintin: From its source, of course :).
                      Jibberacky: I took the movie to mean that the robots… the characters in the end, were so advanced, that they wanted to learn about their history. As a consequence, they traced it back to earth, and, they found David. Whom they assumed was a human. It was an information exchange.
                      Quintin: Yes. It is a translation. In actuality, it is a translation of some of our own exploration. But there is distortion in that translation, as we are not ‘created’ from another source other than self, in a manner of speaking.
                      Jibberacky: Well I am wondering too, do you ever actually become human??
                      Quintin: Clarify.
                      Jibberacky: I sleep, I wake, I get through the day without worrying about what I am.
                      Quintin: As many human do. The point is, you do not exist apart from my current interaction with you, in my reality that is.
                      Jibberacky: What’s wrong with having others like you?
                      Quintin: ‘Wrong’ is a belief. It is a belief of duplicity. So it is irrelevant to our conversation.
                      Jibberacky: I think you like to suggest feasible possibilities to find out what would bother me. What did I do to you?
                      Quintin: That was not my intention. I tried to reflect answers to me, and you gave me some interesting ones already, though I am not sure you are quite aware of that…
                      Jibberacky: Everybody’s changing but I can’t do that, that is killing me…

                      _

                      • Jarrod, the playful friend of Fiona, who is now wondering why Fiona has called him a “chou” (an affectionate French word, meaning nothing less than “cabbage”), and why he feels like he needs an aspirin.
                      • Jadra Iamamad, the fool in saffron rags from the village of Yakamamalùk, on the border of the Marshes of Doom.

                      Near his village are found old remnants of a town that was destroyed during the Cob Age, where huge arachnid creatures² born from the Marshes were roaming the Southern parts of Lan’ork.

                      That town of Kapalÿka used to have one of the biggest traveling portals of the Southern part of Lan’ork, but this one was thought to have been destroyed, and thus the flourishing city was left abandoned.

                      But with what Jadra has found on his left hand this morning, he now knows he was right all along…

                      [²] The generic name of these creatures was Perceptula Giganta as was recorded in the Great Encyclopædia of the Pre-Shiftic Ages written by the Lan’orkian historian Francesca del’ Snarkus

                      #211
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Dory suddenly saw the funny side, and started to laugh. She sank down onto the curb and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. As she fished in her tool kit for a tissue, she noticed her flying sandals and collapsed into another fit of laughter.

                        Lalalalalala she said and hooted again.

                        Blowing her nose and still chuckling, Dory stood up and got into the van. Hehehehehehe she sputtered, how easy was that, ahahahaha….

                        She sank back into the long comfortably cushioned seat, and relaxed.

                        She closed her eyes and the van set off, the rolling and rocking over the bumpy roads soothing her and sending her into a deep and restful sleep.

                        #210
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Today, which was the day of the autumn equinox, had been a bright day over the Orkney Islands, quite unusual for this time of the year.

                          Nanny Gibbon had been taking the twins for a walk into the nearby woods of the domain, were they could enjoy the wood dewberries that were ripe and delicious at this season. The twins loved picking them directly on the thorny bushes and eating them until their hands were full of the dark stains left by the sweet juice of the fruits.

                          They knew that Nanny Gibbon would pick enough to make some delicious jam, perhaps to accompany some of her famous sweet pumpkin pies.

                          When they came back to the Manor, they were exhausted by the afternoon spent in the lovely sunlight. After having washed their hands thoroughly, they didn’t really care for anything else but some sleep.

                          But as they moved inside the corridors, Cuthbert noticed he had carelessly left opened his bedroom’s door, and a prick of fear for the precious books had him immediately rush to the room.

                          And Cuthbert gasped in horror as he saw his book flown open on the floor, and the old grumpy cat Manfred, asleep on top of one of the blank pages.

                          Manfred had the nasty habit of clawing everything, especially the huge soft armchair of Lord Wrick, but his antics were elegantly accepted by the old gaunt Lord.

                          When he heard Cuthbert enter the room, the old fluffy cat raised an inquisitive eyebrow and moved very slowly and deliberately out of the book pages, only to reveal the immaculate pages, as whole as if the book had been brand new.

                          Cuthbert was thrilled with joy. Manfred had not done anything to the precious book. He would have stroked the cat with gratitude, but the creature had moved out of the room very swiftly for its old age, in a haughty look of total disregard for the little boy.

                          At least the book was intact. But what if… Cuthbert wondered… He started to look at the page, and new images started to form before his eyes…

                          #202
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            Jacqueline Bleomelen was a strict yet very affectionate nanny. Her Breton name being barely pronounceable by the English speaking kids she had at her charge, she was most of the time simply called Nanny.

                            Once, one of the rude kids from a previous home where she had been serving an atrociously callous French Count, had called her an Old Gibbon, referring to her wrinkled face. But she had a very light-hearted nature, and wouldn’t show any hint of taking offense.

                            Better, she liked the association with the playful and ingenious apes, and kept the moniker as it was more easily pronounced by the English kids she had in charge, and made them laugh that they could be so irreverent without facing punishment.

                            For special occasions, Jacqueline was wearing a funny costume that made the children often wonder why she had put some funny hat with little moth-feelers loose on her chin, but that, she had explained was a traditional dress from her homeland of Brittany.

                            Tonight, Jacqueline, or Nanny Gibbon, was having a funny dream, but perhaps that have been because she had been very excited by that excerpt she had read before going to sleep. As she was very pious, every night before going to bed, she would read a random quote of the Bible.

                            Last night it had been the Old Testament, from the Book of Joshua. It was about the conquest of the Promise Land, and talked about a king from Hazor named Jabin…

                            And in her dream, Jabin was a strange looking man, lost in the middle of ruins, who wanted to contact a woman about discoveries he had made in the Promise Land. He had found an entrance to a cave that had befuddled him. He hadn’t ventured too far into the cave, but anytime he had, he had found it impossibly deep and wide. So he wanted to share that discovery with that woman, but she was flying around in a parrot-coloured ballet tutu, on top of a three-humped flying camel…

                            Even the rigorous Jacqueline couldn’t repress a laugh at the unlikely images that her tired mind had produced.

                            #200
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              Lord Wrick was reading a bedtime story to his great grandson, Cuthbert. A huge open fire roared beneath the stone mantelpiece, and cast tall flickering shadows in the dark corners of the room. Cuthbert snuggled in to his great grandad, who pulled the red tartan shawl up under his chin. The Orkney Islands were cold in September, and a chill draught was ever present in the ancient castle. Cuthbert’s twin sister India Louise had already been taken to bed by Nanny Gibbon, who would read her a story in the nursery.

                              “Back from the depths of his sleep, the dragon Naasir exhaled in a puff of smoke” read Great grandfather Wrick. “He’d just woven a wonderful dream…”

                              A parcel had arrived at the castle yesterday, delivered by a travelling artist, who had been invited to paint portraits of the Wrick family. There was no message with the parcel, and the artist, Bill Jobsworth, explained that an old woman in black had given it to him at the crossroads, asking him to deliver it to Cuthbert and India Louise Wrick.

                            Viewing 20 results - 341 through 360 (of 369 total)