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  • #512

    SCHPOOOOOOOH!

    In the saloon everybody became silent.

    That noise was so awful.

    What could it possibly be?

    As Jo entered the saloon, he was startled by the unusual quietness of it. And he was even more startled to see Mc Gaughran covered with bandages, filthy and juicy bandages. He seemed quite paralyzed with terror. Did he see something horrid? He was coughing harshly.

    Jo couldn’t help but laugh. And every one in the saloon began shyly to laugh also.

    #510

    :multimedia: Marvin Scrozzezi was considering a script that had been sent to him by his friend.
    Betty, his assistant, had insisted that he reads it…

    Seeing his current movie, it couldn’t be any worse in any case.
    The title of the script cracked him up.

    Ogregan, the Origeans

    Marvin giggled, almost spluttering his smoking chai on the script.

    He started to read the first paragraphs.

    FADE IN:
    EXT. WOODS
    A big humphing man plunges into the woods. Twigs slap at him,
    but the sound of gunfires keeps him going. Sheriff Marshall is
    taking the lead, but an auburn haired man plunges into the woods
    before him, followed by one dark-haired one. They are obviously
    brothers. The older one is ELVIN STREWN, he is following his
    younger brother with the lopsided hair, JAY STREWN.
    JAY is shooting at the fugitive, ALDO MC GALLIGAN, a local
    mobster known as the OGREGAN.
    
    Gunfire explodes in trees near the STREWN brothers, shot at them
    by MC GALLIGAN, and they dive and roll into hiding under a
    palisade.

    Interesting stuff, wonders Marvin… That mobster looks like a fascinating character…

    Flipping though the script he found page 57 another catching bit of reading…

     DISSOLVE TO:
    EXT. PROSPERITY BANK ; SHOT of a Texan bank on a quiet street.
    INT. PROSPERITY BANK
    There are three customers, male. Enters a MOTHER and her SON.
    TELLER#1: What can I do for you Mrs MC GALLIGAN?
    MRS GALLIGAN to her SON who is drawing on her dress: ALDO, will
    you keep still for a moment, good for nothing!

    Pfff, Marvin sighed, feeling bored.
    Not long after, he was sound asleep, snoring loudly on the comfortable chair.

    #507

    Ted was quite fond of Ogrean.
    Twilight was a bit sorry for the sheriff, for she had thought him a good guy at first,… whatever that means… but obviously he was a bit blinded by the slickness of the slimy condescending Pompousaur.

    But something interesting had happened this day, and she wondered how it would change things again.
    Apparently, from what she had caught from the scene, Ted had left the saloon in a cold rage, and it was quite obvious that the Pudgeon was a bit distraught… What could have moved the jovial sheriff like that?

    When she and Anna were changing clothes behind the scene after the representation, Anna started to talk quite freely and unexpectedly about the accident.

    — That Marshall guy is not as silly as he seems…

    As she was more talking to herself, Twilight didn’t answer.

    — What d’ya reckon? Anna asked more directly
    — Oh me? I don’t really know what happened…
    — Don’t play dumb with me, girl. You’re smarter than you wanna show.

    Twilight took some time to ponder…
    — I don’t think that Ogrean tried to bribe the sheriff, not as obviously…
    — Yeah…
    — Apparently, he started to explain the sheriff who he was supposed to arrest, and that didn’t please him the least.
    — More likely, yes. Definitely sounds like him…
    Anna?
    — Yes?

    Twilight almost wanted to tell her how she did understand Anna and how it must have been difficult for her with that child from Mc Gaughran, but she couldn’t express all of that.

    Terry is sweet.
    — Yes he is, he’s a lovely boy. I love him so much despite…
    — I know.

    When she came back to their ranch, Twilight felt relieved somewhat about what had occurred. Perhaps that this era of heavy cloaked ruthless order incarnated by Ogrean was coming to an end.
    She was a hopeless dreamer.

    #1965

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    Jib
    Participant

      seemed change despite important quickly bull started god mountains making worry lucille dark illi process fox far kept comment looking play

      :yahoo_billy:

      #1954

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        That inaugural draw started like that

        Language (bad bart) managed fact book. Applause! Focused Quintin himself happening… quickly images dancing, Tina slowly wondered aspects given sisters. Try kept Salome during decision… Sound trust money; truth. Smiled under family. Floating needed blue, growing yesterday

        #89
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          I’m starting a new discussion if you find some interesting message in the Word Cloud of our energy deposits.
          Or poems, or nonsense…

          Feel free to indulge :p

          From wikipedia on scrying : Scrying or crystal gazing is the occult practice of using a medium, most commonly a reflective surface or translucent body, to aid perceived psychic abilities such as clairvoyance. The media often used to “see” are water, polished precious stones, crystal balls, or mirrors.

          #1314

          In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            December 3 rd

            ( Hey, that’s 12.3, might be a hint for growth… Yurick)

            A communication about coordinate points, and how to travel between idea clusters

            As the story starts to develop in a rapid and very intertwined manner, much like waves in the ocean, overlapping and rippling from and to many directions, Yurick became concerned that it may be difficult to keep track of, or rather to retain an ability to graciously navigate in it.

            Let us imagine for a moment. Take your own life. It is composed of a multitude of moments. Your construct of linear time gives you the impression that there is a continuous succession or stream of moments.
            In a manner of speaking, it is easier for you to grok the concept of multiple points of attention for your naturally associate them with your space. You can easily envision your many focuses happening all at once in a variety of places, towns or countries, and having a possibility to zoom in and out, so that to encompass more than your single current focus.
            But what you do in engaging your conceptualization with your focuses would be equally valid were you to engage it in relation to that single focus that is you, in all of its moments of actualization.
            But that would be far less familiar, as you identify quite strongly with that construct of time.

            As that story unfolds, you discover that there are an infinity of points of attention dispersed in many many comments, and one comment can include many more than one point of attention itself. What you would be tempted to do, for it is something that is very automatic in your current associations, would be to attempt to draw lines between the points, to recreate a linearity, and thus facilitate your understanding of a certain action.

            This is unnecessary and within your current movement of expansion of awareness would be counterproductive.

            But you are familiar with that concept of coordinate points. For most of you, you once again associate them strongly with the space continuum, but they could be used in many many other situations. That story being one of them.
            The coordinate points are in a manner of speaking, conglomerate of very coherent energy; they would not be “points” per se, but rather high concentration of these points of attention that your attempt to link together.
            As such, they become the links that you are in search of, for in that drawing of energy points of similar expressions, they also become passageways between the associations that the points are linked to.
            As a matter of fact, the “point” that you come to identify to the concentrated cluster of points would rather be a tone representative of that coherent energy that you can use to activate the links contained within that cluster of points.

            That would be the reason why Yurick, in coming to understand that concept, has slightly adapted the original cloud of tags in the story, so that it can expand and be used to access the coordinate points that the tags are, quite simply.

            #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…

            #501
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Arona finally managed to fall into a restless sleep.

              She dreamt she was walking down a narrow alleyway between a row of old brick houses. A woman hanging multicoloured shawls on a washing line called out to her.

              Where are you going? asked the lady. Are you lost or something? Do you need some co-ordinate points?

              oh no, said Arona, I am just checking out the other side. I heard there is chocolate over there. It is through that gate I think.

              The lady recoiled in horror. The other side! NO, you don’t want to go to the other side. I went to the other side once and I was never the same again. They all say I am mad now. No stay here and help me with the laundry.

              Arona hesitated. A rabbit, a lynx and a toad rushed down the alleyway. Woooooo Hoooooo, they shouted. We are going to the other side toooooooooooooo.

              Mad, said the woman shaking her head, completely bonkers I am afraid, and she threw fairy dust on Arona.

              :fleuron:

              Arona wakened from her strange dream feeling oddly refreshed. It was morning. She started making her way happily back towards the cave, anxious to see her friends again.

              #498

              some writing by Twilight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

              #491

              Illi woke up with a start. Phew, what a nightmare! Dusty trunks full of grinning crystal skulls, farting mummys blowing bubbles in the sea, huge omelettes in colours she couldn’t name, and UGGHH, Becky shuddered as she recalled that awful blue spider ‘health’ treatment…..

              #483
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                V’ass placed the box carefully on the pier as soon as he got off the boat, and pulled his false handlebar moustach off with a yelp. Next to come off was the bowler hat, and shake out her tumble of blonde curls. V’ass shrugged off the charcoal grey pinstripe suit jacket and unbuttoned the crisp white shirt. With a long sigh of relief, she started to unwrap the bandages that had squashed her ample bosom to her chest.

                As the bandages fell in loops on the floor, they wrapped themselves around the box, and in an unfortunate twist of fate, when V’ass bent over to pick them up she inadvertently yanked the top of the box off.

                Oh…MY…GOD! V’ass shrank backwards as hundreds of huge blue spiders spilled out of the box. She lost her footing, and fell backwards into the sea with a splash.

                #477
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Paquita, I found someone to look after the goats! We can book the tickets to Tikfijikoo now!

                  Paqui shreiked rather ear peircingly, and threw her arms around Jose Maria. Who? Who on earth did you find?

                  Well, Jose sniggered, A couple of blousy old dears, English ones. Wanting to ‘Get away from it all’

                  English! Paqui’s eyes lit up. I bet you can even charge them for doing it!

                  Well, I am, laughed Jose. They think they’re getting a great deal. Haha! Jose shook his head wonderingly. Life was just getting better and better; the most unlikely and unexpected things had started happening.

                  #472
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Arona was startled to hear some rustling, but she was not sure where it was coming from.

                    hello, she called. Hello! anyone there?

                    shhhh said a grumpy voice

                    oh well! that’s a bit rude, thought Arona, buggered if I feel like shushing.

                    Where are you? she called

                    I am on the other side, said the voice, Now will you be quiet?

                    On the other side of what? wondered Arona, somewhat bemused and perplexed. She wondered if the voice meant the other side of the tree she was leaning against, so she got up and tried to peer into the darkness, but could not see anything. She thought she could smell chocolate though. How very odd!

                    #470
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      It was getting dark. As Arona started to head back to the cave she realised she was unsure of her way.

                      Oh bugger it, she thought. I am not particularly brave and it is getting dark and I don’t know how to get back to the cave.

                      So she sat down and under a tree, and decided she had best just try and get some sleep till morning.

                      She couldn’t get to sleep though, and started to worry. Although it only seemed like yesterday to her, to the others, she had been gone for several years. My, what an odd thing time can be. She wondered if they would really want her back after all this time, and she felt bad about the way she had abandoned Yikesy and left Vincentius to care for him, and she started to feel very insecure and generally quite sad about herself.

                      Worry Wort, said a voice in her head.

                      Oh yes I am! she said, and oddly felt much better.

                      #463

                      — A marmoset then… Georges said Salome grinning widely.
                      — Yes. Did you get a name for him?
                      Leo.
                      — That’s cute… With his little white mane around his face, Malvina will love him.

                      Leo had jumped on Salome’s shoulder, as it was a bit exhausting for the little creature to follow them.

                      — You know they are disappearing on this island of Tikfijikoo where I was just before. I think they found the invasion of their habitat by humans no longer funny. Lots of them have already popped into another reality for their kind… It takes some adjustment to refocus and reconfigure the energy, but it seems to go smoothly, as Leo being here is proof.
                      — Yes, as lots of old species on Earth ware doing. The relocation process is a bit energetically crowded, in a manner of speaking…
                      Georges was finding usage of words in that dimension a bit uneasy. That ware was such an example of how language needed rearrangement when they talked about simultaneous events in both past and present. At least, he knew Salome was understanding beyond the words.

                      Salome smiled and envisioned Georges and herself bathed into a field of fluid mulberry jelly colour, and around them some of the particles floating haphazardly around started to gather orbiting in rippling circles around them.
                      Salome was remembering an undulating shape too that she could use as a tuning fork, and she added it inside the central circle.

                      — Oh, you’re right…

                      « the translation device ! » they both said simultaneously, bursting into laughter.

                      — I always tend to forget about that funny toy Malvina once explained to me. And you know how much I love to play with it… when I remember it, of course…

                      Malvina had told Georges that the particles which were in his field were assisting him in translation, and had a grounding and focusing effect.

                      Leo started to applaud frantically at the new light quality of the energy.

                      #462

                      Juan was getting more and more annoyed at his daughter’s boyfriend. A good for nothing who was lazy as a pig.
                      Paqui was caring for him, and always finding him excuses. Meanwhile, all that Claudio was able to do was to sit in front of the TV and watch the sports channel.

                      More than once, Juan had been close to burst into a fury and throw the parasite out of the house, but Paquita was so enamored with him that he did nothing out of compassion for his daughter.
                      If only she could see her own beauty, she wouldn’t stick with such a bum.
                      Her acne had started at her puberty, and it was like she used it to hide herself… Many, and crazy Josefina too, God bless her poor wretched soul, thought it was such a good thing that she had found someone to love her despite her face full of pimples, but that was all rubbish.

                      The pig was out of town to run in a rallye, and that was providing some respite for them all. God knows where he got the money for these expensive entertainments, petty trafficking, most likely… At least, that had left Paqui some clearance to reacquaint herself with her family and with her cousin Joselito, without being shut up at every turn of the conversation by Claudio

                      #460

                      Dory’s stopover at Heathrow airport was longer than expected, due to the knock on effect of delays caused by the air traffic controllers strike in Paris. She bought coffee in a paper cup and went and sat in the cramped smoking room. A couple of middle aged overweight women were sitting opposite her, their chubby knees almost touching Dory’s in the unpleasant little nicotine yellow room.

                      Dory couldn’t help but listen to their conversation, and had to bite her lip on several occasions to prevent herself interjecting questions. Dory wanted to ask where this Tikfijikoo Island was. There was something about the sound of it that caught her attention, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on the strange feeling it gave her to hear the name.

                      The two women, who appeared to be named Shah and Glaw, were apparently on their way to an island to participate in some kind of experimental treatment, Dory gathered, organized by a Dr Bronklehampton. On hearing the name of the doctor, Dory had a series of images flit through her mind. One of them was of an impish looking redhead with an incredibly large head, doing the tango.

                      When the two plump ladies left the smoking room, Dory followed them. They bought magazines in the airport shop, and boiled sweets ‘in case their ears went’, and deliberated over sunscreen lotion, and then after some inaudible whispering, in which Dory heard only the words ‘treatment’ and ‘skin’, apparently decided against purchasing any of the skin care products.

                      Dory followed them into the public lavatories, and learned that ‘our Mavis’ would be joining them for the treatment, and listened to a great deal of rather unkind comments about ‘our Fred’ and his bullying ways. On the way out of the Ladies Room, the bleached blonde named Shah collided with a bag lady, at which point Dory saw a shower of bright blue sparks in her peripheral vision. The bag lady looked up and laughed at Shah and her friend and said ‘It matters not, my friend….HA! HA! HA!’, and winked at Dory as she shuffled past.

                      Dory followed the ladies to the baggage check-in desk. Yukailli Airlines. Dory had never heard of it; new airlines starting up all the time, she thought, and such silly names, like that Be My Baby one…what a daft name for an airline. Dory sauntered past, as she couldn’t really stand behind them without arousing suspicion. She was momentarily swallowed up in a swarm of Italians, there must have been two coachloads of them. By the time they’d passed her, Dory had made a decision. She would book a ticket to Tikfijikoo, hopefully on the same plane as Shah and Glaw.

                      She turned around briskly, fleetingly wondering what to say to Dan and Becky about her sudden change of plans, and made her way back to the Yukailli Airlines desk.

                      That’s funny, she said out loud, It was right here!

                      She scanned the names above the row of desks….British Airways, Monarch, Air France, Qantas…..but no Yukailli Airlines. Dory asked at the Airport Information desk.

                      I’m sorry madam, there’s no airline of that name here, the young man behind the desk informed her, looking at her quizzically.

                      Dory opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, and wondered for a moment if she had imagined it. Just then someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to spin round. It was the bag lady she’d seen earlier in the Ladies room.

                      Leaving at Gate 57 and three quarters, the bag lady whispered, and winked conspiratorily.

                      Dory’s mouth fell open. She was about to say Oh now really, what is this, Harry Potter Airport? but something stopped her. Instead she asked, But what about tickets and baggage check? But the bag lady had gone.

                      #459

                      Frankly, Malvina seems a bit down, Tina said to Al after having read the play’s entry.
                      Oh, well, I suppose she has too her bad hair days… sighed Al who had shaved his hair in a mohawk this morning. He was thinking of trying some new beliefs adjustments so that he would be able to regulate more precisely the flow of his hairs…
                      In fact, he knew it was just as easy as knowing that the hair do not grow, just like trees do not grow.
                      A bit like the mummy in that old book from Anne Rice who could just absorb the rays of the sun to regenerate his body…

                      :fleuron:

                      Malika was painting her toenails. Bright fuchsia.
                      She would spend Thanksgiving with her family, and felt some lightness would be very needed in that environment.
                      She had decided on a white outfit, with light blue and white coach purse and little heeled shoes.
                      A little quartz pendant to complete the ensemble would be perfect.

                      :fleuron:

                      Malvina had finished preparing the vials of silgreen bloom’s potion. There were thirty three of them, all lined up, and now she could go for her walk to the village.
                      Strangely, she became aware of an energy; in fact two energies. They were diffuse in the background before, but now, they were popping to the forefront, and very intensely.
                      Visitors?

                      That was unexpected…

                      :fleuron:

                      Salome had thought of a gift for Malvina. She had shown it mentally to Georges, and he had smiled in her mind warmly.
                      And as they walked into the tunnels, they started to gather particles of matter of that dimension around their focus of attention, and slowly started to become translucent bodies, and then fully focused.

                      The gift was following them.

                      #453
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        As Arona started to turn away, Lucille called her back.

                        Arona, my dear, I have a gift for you. A story.

                        Oh, I don’t think I have time for stories, but thanks anyway, said Arona, anxious to get going.

                        A little bit rudely disregarding Arona’s objections, Lucille continued:

                        Once there were several people standing around a lake in which the full moon was reflected. They discussed the reflection. One person said it was an egg, another said “No, someone must have drowned, it is a bald head”. “Rubbish” said another, “clearly it is a balloon in the water.” One thought the moon was yellow, another thought the reflection of the moon was very emotional. Someone else thought it was soft. Why they had quite a discussion about the reflection of the moon and each one had a separate and disparate view of things. Of course they did, they were looking at it from different perspectives. All were looking at the reflection and not the the moon itself shining in the sky.

                        Arona, Lucille said intently, Each person’s perception of the moon reflected in the water, tells us as much about that person as it does about the moon itself. Remember that.

                        Arona tried not to giggle, she felt Lucille was getting a little carried away with this moon talk.

                        Lucille, undeterred, continued; That’s the best any of us can do, is offer our own perspective. But it is just a point of view. Don’t you worry about who others think you are, unless that’s what you choose also. You be free. You trust yourself Arona and you will shine brightly like the moon.

                        I understand, said Arona, as the flork cried out again, with incredible and stunning synchronistic timing. And she did, although she really did think Lucille had got a bit garbled in the telling of it, yet she did get the gist of the unusual little story. And after all, she realised, her own perception of Lucille had changed rather dramatically since that first encounter. Why, now she seemed like quite a sweetie, and really quite profound, in a complicated way. How very odd

                        Lucille cackled and winked. Hmmm thought Arona, well, buggered if I know….

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