Search Results for 'slipped'

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  • #3465

    Lazuli Galore in the shape of the mandarin duck looked over his shoulder, grinning mischievously at his passengers.
    “Fasten your seat belts!” he shouted.
    “What bloody seat belts?” asked Lisa. “Hey! Steady on!”
    Lazuli the duck accelerated like a speedboat, ripping across the tops of the swelling waves and performing eye watering figure of eights, tilting the passengers first this way then that way as they held on to the feathers with all the strength they could muster, fearing for their lives, yet wildly exhilarated.
    Lazuli whooped with the exuberance of wild abandon, failing to notice that Fanella had slipped off his back into the brine, and unable to hear the cries of the others amid his own gleeful shouts and the roar of the wind rushing past.
    Fanella rolled and flailed in the backwash, eventually surfacing and gasping for breath. In vain she looked for the duck but it had disappeared from sight. The shore looked too far to swim to, but she knew she must try to reach it. Holding down the panic as best she could, she started to swim towards the mangrove trees lining the beach, barely visible in the descending fog. The striped shadows shimmered in the mist; was it an optical illusion of stripes and mists that it seemed as if a section of shadows was heading towards her? The zebra waded into the breaking waves, and calmly and purposefully swam towards the drowning girl.

    #3433

    Cheung Lok felt himself fall suddenly with nothing to hold on to, when the elephant he was riding suddenly shrank to human size knocking him down to the ground, partly unconscious after the event.
    This Sanso, sure is 麻烦 [¹]. I must to start to believe harder in my luck was his thought before he lost consciousness.

    On the other side of Sanso, a strange man with a turban was struggling with a bizarre striped dog-sized sea cucumber with teeth. Meanwhile, his target, Sanso seemed to leave back to the encampment’s ruins with… his elephant turned… something else.

    That was all he could remember when he woke up a few minutes later and wondered what had happened and how Sanso could have slipped away again.
    Noticing how he was tracking a man that seemed to make a point at having no discernible pattern, the realization came in a flash of blinding certainty that Sanso knew probably nothing at all about Irina, and surely didn’t care at all about warning her. In other words, Cheung Lok was on his own, and the painful clarity was soothed in equal measure by the other realization that he could let go of this 王八蛋².

    Looking around, he noticed the guy with the turban still struggle with the appetizing stripped sea cucumber.
    “Hold steady pal, I’ll ezap that bugger.”
    The other who had turned almost purple took a series of short breaths when he was released from the monster. “Thanks mate, those things are my bane.”
    “No need to thank me, I’ll deep-fry it for us later. Care to join?”
    “Hell why not. Name’s Berberus by the way. And you shouldn’t trust elephants here. It is known.”
    “Thanks for the tip, pal. Cheung Lok.”
    “You’re going back after Sanso?”
    “No, it’s pointless, I just happened to find him on my way to a series of turbulences on the island and couldn’t pass the opportunity, but that one is more slippery than a wet snail during monsoon.”
    “What is monsoon?” Berberus asked perplexed by the yellow faced man with the strange accent.
    “Don’t you mind that. Shall we go?”

    ___

    [¹] 麻烦 máfan in Chinese, can be roughly translated as ‘irritating piece of hemp’, meaning being trouble or vexatious —or some may argue, in this case, unbelievably lucky and difficult to keep track of, in a continuous way or any other way.

    [²] 王八蛋 wángbā dàn : “The King’s eighth egg”, a colourful Chinese way of insulting people, meaning roughly “bastard”.

    #3163

    Sadie was using the sewing app on her e-zapper to modify the horrible garments provided for them, when she noticed that the ferret was moving toward the chapel. She felt a rush of anticipation go through her.

    ”Okay, you guys, we need to hide. Someone is coming and it looks like they have a ferret on them!”

    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    ”Oh Dear Blessed Mother Mary, and if there are any Saints or Angels listening, please help me. I have done something very bad and done an awful sin and and I don’t want to be beaten so please forgive me. I am so sorry for taking the little toy. It was for my little brother because it is his birthday coming up, but it is a sin to steal and also to think that the Queen is old and ugly and please have mercy on me and I promise I will never sin again and I will serve you the rest of my life. I won’t be rude to Mirabelle, even though she is a bad sinner and quite mean. I will only do good and smile and think good things. I will say my prayers every night. So please have mercy on me and make sure I don’t get in trouble. I am leaving the little toy here for you and you can do what you think is best. But don’t tell anyone I left it”

    ”Please.” she added again, for good measure.

    Feeling satisfied that she had done all she could, Adeline placed the toy ferret gently in front of the statue of Mary, and silently slipped out of the chapel.

    #2158

    In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Flinella snapped. “Rude tart”.

      “Huh? Oh, sorry, slipped off into another thread for a moment. What did you say?”

      SHHH! he’ll hear you! Follow me, and try and be unobtrusive.”

      #2751

      In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “It’s mother earth crying because humans are destroying the planet” ventured Kerry. “And before you ask, I don’t know how I got here. I was doing the remote view practice, and I got a direct hit, it was a picture of a kraken. Then I heard this rumbling noise in my head, and well, here I am…”

        “Well you’re all wrong” said the guy with the blonde hair. “It’s the Galactic Federation of Light, and they’ve come to arrest all the criminals that are preventing the shift.”

        Flinella slipped behind Eliza, surruptitiously looking to see where she could hide. What did he mean by criminals?

        “What do you mean by criminals, my good man?” asked Eliza, sensing Flinella’s alarm.

        “He means anarchists and protesters” said the politician.

        “No he doesn’t, he means big pharma” interjected Kerry.

        “Where the bloody hell did all these people come from?” Flinella looked around wildly, and then “Oh now really this is too much!”

        The grey squishy guy just laughed, his thin shoulders jumping up and down with mirth.

        #1146

        “Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”

        “Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.

        “As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”

        “Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.

        “Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”

        Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”

        Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR

        “So what did you learn about the door, then?”

        Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”

        “If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”

        Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

        I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house,
        and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one.
        The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room.
        Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified
        in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom
        but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.

        “Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”

        Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once,
        I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through.
        Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks
        but I carried on anyway.

        “Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.

         It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings
        (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows
        of closed doors on either side).  The foyer opened out on the left into a large old
        fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at
        a table.  I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors
        onto an upstairs outdoor terrace.  There was a city scene below.  On the left
        was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.

        “Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.

        “Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.

        A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was
        going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up.  She collapsed into
        the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.

        “Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”

        Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”

        “You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.

        I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.

        “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

        “Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.

        I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it
        was bulging out under my fingers.  It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature
        and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature,
        and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
        Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that
        curved round to the right at a landing below.  I started to fall down the stairs and
        knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding
        when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself,
        and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in
        the same place, clutching the banister.

        “Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.

        “Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”

        “The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.

        “The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”

        Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.

        “The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”

        Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.

        “Pffft” said Bea.

        “More coffee?”

        #943
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Becky started to hear voices babbling, through the swirling colours and fog. She groaned as she became aware of her head ache, and raised her hand feebly to her forehead.

          Ah, she’s coming round! she mentally translated the foreign babble that was drifting into her consciousness. Becky’s hand slipped down towards her belly, which was hurting almost as much as her head.

          What the f…! she whispered in amazement, as she struggled to sit up.

          The babble of voices twittered at her to be still, and bony fingers pushed at her shoulders, encouraging her to lie still.

          I’m not fat anymore, Becky whispered incredulously, and began to smile.

          A well meaning voice was comforting her, telling her not to worry, that the three babies were fine, though tiny, and had been rushed to a special facility in the mountains to be placed in an incubator.

          Oh, cool, said Becky vaguely, not really listening. She stroked her smooth flat belly and sighed happily, and drifted off once more into the delightful oblivion of unconsciousness.

          #938

          Bloddy lamp is it, you said? Can’t find any lamp missing in there!

          CRASH!

          What happened! Mavis? Are you alright?
          Oh, I think I just slipped on that blue slime ‘ere… Crashed something have I?
          Yeah, that small table there, you almost broke it!… Just like Bruce Loo, but with your bum ahahah!
          What was that crushing sound Sha?
          That small lamp there… Oh, that sounds perfect… now we can just put that skullamp to replace it…
          Yeah, let’s do that… Can’t wait to go to some more honeycomb!
          You greedy pooh Glo huhu
          There’s a false contact or something, it blinks strangely, looks like a bloddy disco ‘ere!
          Yeah, looks way better that way. We’ll have to bring back some decent music too.
          Righty oh! I’ve got my old disc from the Bungles…
          Yeahoo! Walk like a Magician!…

          #935

          From one blink to the other, hung betwixt spaces and times in that now where there is no such thing as space or time, Leörmn was considering the wide network of possibilities through the eyes of his friends to assist their movement.


          The “blink” was an opportunity for them; an opportunity to rearrange the space, incorporate new physical aspects, or discard others.

          In truth, all was ever here, at their reach. All was surrounding them in a dance of invisible links of consciousness.
          These links were, like the grains of sand of a giant glubolin, constantly vibrating in an arrangement made to accommodate and fit those clumps of grains known as “essences” that were playing for a moment the game of having an identity and being separated from the whole vibration moving through the sand —even playing to the point of identifying themselves with the sand at times.

          You could see that as a progressive enhanced experience, and while most races he had seen were having fun playing with many filters overlaying the experience of that vibrating scenery of conscious sand, Leörmn was a dragon, and dragons had no need for that many layers.
          That was where the energy of Malvina, and Georges, were helpful. In tuning into their filterings, Leörmn could dim the spotlights on the parts of this unbound scenery which was not useful to them. But still retaining this wide awareness of the infinite realm of possibilities, he could also easily spot those most accessible to them.
          And even as consummate a traveler Georges was, there were still energy reconfiguration of the overall scenery that were not easily reachable for him.
          Tuning into another world or reality was mostly easy. Altering the configuration of the physical reality at a bigger scale was another thing altogether.

          That tremendous power had made the dragons almost extinct in the past —a better way to put it would be to say that they slipped into other dimensions, exited that of Alienor—, fearsome as it was for the other races.
          The seed that was found in that past they had just visited was already germinating. The whole probability trail looked to the dragon like something radiant and warm as the little creature named Leo, curled-up into Malvina’s aura…

          What would be their next move now?

          #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.

          #695
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Zhanochka ran until she could run no more, and then she collapsed into a heap on the ground. Birch trees shimmered against the watery blue sky abover her head and before long her eyes had fluttered and closed.

            Moments later she smiled. Nishanti, she whispered. You’re here.

            Zhanochka slept soundly where she had slipped to the ground, sprawled on the tussocky grass beneath the trees, her sleeves still pushed up over her elbows and a smile on her lips.

            #502

            Madame Butterbutt, the saloon landlady and iconic colourful figure, came back to her room in a fury.
            She was living above the saloon, in a large room tastefully furnished, with some exuberant objects that she had gathered from her many commercial acquaintances.

            She took one of her favourite cigarillos to calm her down.
            That Mc Gaughran was such a… she wasn’t at loss for words. But none of them would have been strong or decent enough for the dork that he was. Ooops she smiled, this last one had almost slipped out unnoticed.

            Unlike many people in that small town of San Demangelo, she wasn’t fearful of the man. Not of the man himself (she was almost a giantess compared to many women), and certainly not of his threats either, even though she knew what the man was capable of.
            She knew well many of his shady tricks, but she also knew things about him that most of the time sufficed to keep him quiet and docile.

            Today, she would have almost laughed at him when he had tried to pressure her by threatening to reveal to sheriff Ted Marshall her little trafficking of hallucinogenic toads. Pathetic of him.
            That was really nothing, a little commerce she had with some remote part of her family in Guatemala, especially the voodoo witch Nana Del Conda. These were regularly brought to her by the old ambulant quack Myrlin who was selling all sorts of hocus pocus remedies, keeping the potent ones for Madame Butterbutt.

            So nothing extraordinary about that… No,… what had brought her in that terrible mood was when the hoity-toity, pompous, arrogant, full of himself f*ckhead, oops she bit her lip again… When that jelly belly mugger had tried to coerce her into pushing the little Twi into his bed.
            Repugnant.

            When that foolhardy brother El Disperso is storming again into the bar to try to find quarrel and provoke the jelly pig into a brawl, she would perhaps let him have it his own way after all.
            Last time her loath of firearms had been directed strongly against the young boy, perhaps also to protect him too… Anyway, he was perhaps right, allowing himself to “float downstream”, from the hate to the anger… and perhaps to hope and joy again.
            She started to sound like dear ol’ Abe…

            #430
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Becky was in labour. Well, I don’t know why they call it ‘labour’ she said, this is easy. Moments later a bonny blue eyed baby boy slipped effortlessly into the physical world.

              #1382
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                All alone on page two, Tracy wondered if she had slipped into another dimension, the Page Two Dimension…..:yahoo_idk:

                #158

                Illi set off at a brisk trot in search of the cave. A deafening clap of thunder made her flinch and lose her footing. She slipped, and slid down a steep slippery wet bank, tumbling and rolling out of control. Arrgghh! How embarrassing, she thought, I hope no-one is watching….OUCH! She banged her head on a strangely perfect long oblong stone, which catapulted her into the air and into a cork oak tree. Lordy! She clung onto the knobbly grey bark, trembling and gasping.

                Well, I may as well have a smoke and catch my breath, she thought, at least it’s fairly dry here in this tree. She inched upwards until she found a comfortable fork in the branches and leaned her back against the trunk, fishing in the pockets of her tartan jacket for her Camels and her lighter.

                Ahhhh….that’s better! Now, where are we? Illi felt more optimistic, and surveyed the terrain. AHA! In a little dip behind the tree was a dark hole in the ground. That will lead to a cave, I’m sure of it! Illi lit another smoke, musing that she might never have found the cave entrance had she not banged her head on the strange oblong stone, and hurtled into the tree.

                Feeling much more enthusiastic, Illi climbed down out of the tree and went to investigate the dark hole in the ground. HHmmmm…no sign of a rope, or steps, no light, she wondered what to do next. A voice boomed in her head TRUST! Trust is the key!

                Suddenly feeling very devil-may-care and adventurous, Illi dived into the hole head first… wwwwhhhheeeeeee HOOOOO…… the free-fall was exhilarating, exciting, wildly fun….and then a little voice of doubt crept in, Are you stark raving MAD?

                Whallop! Illi landed on something soft, something sodden and smelling a bit of mold. Momentarily stunned, she just lay there, in a heap on the soft wet lump.

                “Holy MOLY” the soft wet lump shouted “Get OFF me! How incredibly RUDE to land on me like that without so much as an introduction!”

                Illi trembled.

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