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  • #4809

    The downward climb had taken what felt like days. The more he went, the darkest it was even the stars at his feet were now swallowed in obliviating darkness.

    Rukshan felt like abandoning at times, but pressed on and continued, down and down as he rose above clouds.

    The ancient energies that had shaped this topsy-turvy passage spiraling around the fence of the heartwoods wouldn’t have done something of that magnitude and let it unfinished. It was calling for an exploration, while at the same time protecting itself from mere wanderers, the kind with lack of imagination or endurance.
    His mind reminded him of old tales that spoke of sacrificing to the trees for knowledge and passage, but it was surely meant as a metaphor. Hanging upside down for hours was probably in itself a form of sacrifice.

    He reached to his pouch for a drink of sour milk, when he suddenly realized that the gravity had turned, and the pouch was no longer floating above his head. With the darkness and the lack of landmarks, he’d failed to notice when this happened.

    It surely meant he’d crossed an invisible barrier, and was now journeying inside another plan, deeper down. Ground couldn’t be far now. He took a pearl off one of his braids, and threw it. Then he looked at the darkness beneath his feet with intent to discern the faintest sounds. Quickly enough, the pearl gave back a ricocheting sound, clean and echoing slightly against what seemed to be moist stones. Indeed ground was there, where once the sky was.

    Maybe the final test was a leap of faith. Or maybe it was just to patiently complete the climb. A few more steps, and he would be there. A few more steps.

    #4781

    In reply to: The Stories So Near

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Newest developments

      POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

      Maeve and Shawn-Paul are travelling separately to the Australian bush, and end up together at the Flying Fish Inn where they discover they’ve been given the same coupons. Maeve is suspicious of a mysterious man following her.
      Maeve has an exchange with Arona, and sketches her and the cat for her collection of ideas for new dolls. They discover that Arona has the key from her doll.
      Little is said of what happened after Maeve’s Uncle Fergus appears in dramatic fashion.
      After the collective black-out, all bets are off as to the next steps.

      In Canada, Jerk is killing time at the mall, and Lucinda is possibly taking care of Fabio who might be distressed as he’s peeing the doormat regularly.

      Granola after hopping between threads and realities, detected a psychic blast from the Doctor and while trying to investigate, ended up trapped in a tiny red crystal at the Doctor’s lair.

      FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

      After the dramatic arrival of Fergus and the guests, some flirting of Sanso and Idle, Mater’s fashion show, Prune has decided to get back to school after an indigestion of medicinal lizard.

      Some of the guests, namely Connie and Hilda have gone to explore the mines. Possibly with Devan and Bert in tow.

      Fergus has mysteriously disappeared after the black-out.

      DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

      Arona, Ugo, Albie and Mandrake have left the Australian Inn, after a dramatic chase by unknown assailants, possibly the magpies sent by the Doctor. They reappear in the Doline, in Leörmn’s pool, having managed to get the magpies off their trail.

      NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

      The Doctor has managed a psychic event of dramatic proportions. He’s noticed a glowing red crystal that seems to have interfered with his machine. He’s starting to study it, and unravel its secrets.

      Sharon, Gloria and Mavis, the dynamic trio is planning their escape from the nursing home. The psychic blast seems to have alerted Gloria somehow as to the fate of Granola (B), as she somehow guess it’s linked to the Doctor’s experiments (beauty treatments). They plan to go there to investigate (after a fashion).

      LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

      Finnley has disappeared, Liz and Godfrey are to fend for themselves.

      DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

      Muriel has left the cottage, and our friends are preparing their travel to the Land of Giant, while some tales are told.
      Glynnis is teaching bits to a birds’ choir.

      #4727

      Tak was surprised to see Rukshan back. He’d thought he would be gone on his secret mission for a longer time.

      As if reading his mind, Rukshan said as soon as he saw him “It’s a joy to see you, little devil! Don’t expect to have me here for too long though, I’m just gathering a few things before I go for my new exploration. How have you been? And aren’t you going to introduce this young lady?”

      The young lady in question wasn’t shy, and stepped in front to introduce herself. “I’m Nesy, Sir. It’s a pleasure to meet Tak’s family.”

      “It’s a pleasure too, have fun in the garden, but be careful not to trample Glynis’ new plantling.”

      Dropping his satchel on the front of the cottage, Tak started to run towards the little clearing where he knew the baby snoots liked to enjoy a nap, and waved at Nesy to join him.

      “He’s a nice kid.” Glynis was at the windowsill, enjoying the quiet afternoon air.

      Rukshan smiled and said. “I like your new carpet, and what you have done with the house. Has your spell worked to get the carpenter to fix the loo? I feel bad leaving you all again while there is still much to do.”

      “Don’t worry, Fox is good help, so long as you keep him away from the chickens.”

      They laughed.

      #4691
      Jib
      Participant

        The day had started uneventful, the perfect kind of day for Shawn Paul to write his novel. He had been quite productive concerning the numbers of characters written in total, but after a few erasing and correcting only one paragraph of a few lines remained. But he was very satisfied with what he had written.

        Perfection will kill me, he thought. Looking at the piles of documents on his table, he felt tired. He looked at the unremarkable clock on his wall. It was eleven in the morning. Time for a tea. He got up from his desk carefully. He missed a step and inadvertently hit the wrong key combination on his keyboard. It closed his writing app without saving his work. Shawn Paul started panicking when the bell rang. Déjà vu.

        This time it was the mailman.
        “You’re a lucky winner. I need a sign.”
        Shawn Paul signed and was handed a big envelop written “LUCKY WINNER!” all over it. There was barely enough room for his address. The young writer, almost author, feared to open it. It was reeking of distraction potential and it could put his novel in danger when it needed loving care… and a lot of discipline.
        “Look,” said the mailman. “I have another one for your neighbour.” the man knocked at Maeve’s door and gave her the envelop in exchange for a signature. The young woman had no qualm about it and tore open the envelop. It was hard to read her expression when she got a plane ticket out and read the short accompanying note. She almost looked asian poker face at that moment. Her eyes went to the envelop in Shawn Paul’s hands, and he understood the question she hadn’t formulated.
        He felt forced to open his own envelop and it was as agonising as tearing apart the last chance to write his unborn novel.

        “What’s inside?” asked the mailman who was a curious fellow.

        “A plane to Australia, and a voucher to the Flying Fish Inn.”

        “Oh! I know that place, it was all over the news a few months back,” said the man. “I don’t need to envy you then,” he dropped before leaving Shawn Paul and Maeve in the corridor.
        Her cat showed up and meowed. It was clear to the young man there was an interrogation point in its voice.

        #4663
        Jib
        Participant

          The plants seemed even more alive since Roberto had put on his new loincloth. The gardener’s joy was communicative and spreading rapidly. It had been a revelation to him, a newly found freedom and discovery of his sculptural body. Not that the gardener himself was aware of what was happening, but he enjoyed the effects of this new uniform. Knowing that it would lead to another great party was an even greater incentive for him to show it around.

          He always fancied himself as a healer of souls through his expertise of gardening, and seeing how his newly found joy in his work seemed to have awaken the desire of his landlady to get out more was a step in this direction.
          The poor woman was always staying inside, except for the big occasional parties, wearing pink night gowns. The house was too big and dark compared to the huge garden at her disposal.

          Roberto had been watering the begonias, and he also had been thinking. He thought Mistress Liz needed a man. He remembered he had kept the name card of that inspector with a fruity name. Inspector Melon. He could invite him to the Roman party and organise a little incident to have them alone for some time.
          What a marvellous idea, he thought with his latin accent.

          He went on watering the gardenias. He might be dressed up as a slave, but he had put himself in charge of the organisation of the Roman party. He would send the invitations and order the necessary props and costumes. It would be the perfect occasion also to find someone for Godfrey and Finnley.

          Although it should remain a surprise.

          #4630
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            “Oh my god,” said Maeve again. “Do you know what this means?” She put Ima back on the shelf. “You need to water that plant.”
            “No,” said Lucinda. “I mean, no, I don’t know what this means.”
            “I don’t either really,” said Maeve with a sigh.
            “How about I make us a nice cup of tea and you can explain what you do know.”
            Maeve nodded and cleared a pile of books off Lucinda’s sofa so she could sit down.
            “You’ve got a lot of stuff.”
            “Yeah, I’m a hoarder. It’s a bit of a problem but I’ve started getting help for it. I go to ‘Hoarder’s Anonymous’. Have you heard of it?”
            Maeve shook her head.
            “Hi, I’m Lucinda and I’m a hoarder … you know … 12 steps stuff. Same old format.”
            “Cool,” said Maeve, not sure what else to say.

            #4589
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              The old woman picked up the box of giraffe shaped cookies from the supermarket shelf. She looked at the box wonderingly, bemused at why she’d chosen it. She almost put it back on the shelf, but a couple of tears had rolled off her nose and onto the package. She put it in her basket, sighing. She couldn’t very well put it back on the shelf now, not with her snot all over the box. What did it matter anyway, she thought, sniffing. Now that the Ministry of Transport building had burned down, what did it matter.

              “Is everything ok, love?” The old woman looked at the kind expression on the woman’s face, and started to sob. “Oh dear, whatever is the matter?” Maeve asked, noticing the giraffe shaped cookies illustrated on the damp packet.

              “It’s the terrible news!” the old woman replied. “The Ministry of Transport! That beautiful old building! Such a testament to man’s ingenuity! Gone, all gone!”

              “But it’s not the only one though is it?” replied Maeve, wondering if the old dear was a pew short of a cathedral. “I mean, there are others.”

              The old woman pulled her arm sharply away from Maeve’s gentle hand on her shoulder and glared at her.

              “How dare you say that! There’s nothing like it, anywhere!” and she strode off up the aisle, angry steps making a rat tat tat on the polished floor. Her outrage was such that she forgot to pay for the giraffe shaped cookies, and marched right out of the store.

              Jerk, who was watching from a security spying monitor, sighed, and heaved himself out of his seat. The one thing he hated the most about his job was apprehending decrepit old shoplifters. I bet she smells of cat wee and rancid cooking fat, he mumbled under his breath.

              “Oh hello, Jerk!” Maeve intercepted him on his route to the main doors in pursuit of the aged thief, noticing his disgruntled expression. “What’s up, you’re not upset about the Ministry of Transport building too, are you?”

              Nonplussed, Jerk stopped for a moment to consider the unexpected question, giving the elderly shoplifter time to hop on a bus (that symbol of man’s ingenuity) and make her escape.

              #4579
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Bea absentmindedly glanced over at her trash can as she sipped her coffee. Not much in there to rummage through, just a couple of paper handkerchiefs and several thousand of the minute flying ants that accumulated daily on her desk. No clues in there for nosy staff to sneak a look at, she thought to herself. Wastepaper baskets, what a waste of space.

                #4577

                Everyone was back, safe and sound from that ghastly trip in space and time.
                Rukshan hadn’t felt the exhaustion until now. It all came down upon him rather suddenly, leaving behind its trail a deafening silence.

                For the longest time he’s been carried by a sense of duty, to protect the others that’d been guiding his every steps, acting through him without doubt or concern. But in the new quiet place they were for that instant, there was no direction.

                Riddles still abounded, and he knew too well their appeal. Knowledge and riddles seemed to go hand in hand in a devilish dance. Lila or Masti of the divine… Or just fool’s errand, enticed by the prospect of some revelation or illumination from beyond.

                There had been no revelation. The blue beams that had attracted them seemed to have come with more questions than answers. Maybe they were only baits for the naive travellers…
                Even the small crystals he’d collected from the trip, glowing faintly, apparently alive with some energy felt as though they weren’t his own riddle to solve. He left the pouch on the desk with a word for Fox, along with the other small gifts he’d left for the others: some powdered colors, a rare vial of whale’s di-henna, a small all-seeing glass orb, and a magical shawl.

                It was time for him to pack. He didn’t like it much, but his only calling at the moment was that of coming home. Back to the land of the Faes. The Blood Moon Eclipse was upon them, and there would be a gathering of the Sages in the forest to honor the alliances of Old. Surely their little bending of time and space wouldn’t have gone unnoticed at such auspicious moment. Better to anticipate their questions than being marked as an heretic.

                And he wasn’t all too sure the Shadow has been vanquished. Its thirst for the power of the Shards was strong, beyond space and time. If it were to reappear again, the Faes skills would be necessary to help protect the other Shards holders.

                “I’ll see you again my friends” he said, as he entered the center of the nine-tiled square he’s drawn onto the ground, and vanished with it.

                #4550

                There was a knock at the door. It was a tentative knock, 3 small taps really, and It would have been easy to miss if Glynnis and Eleri had not lapsed into an uncomfortable silence and now sat glowering at each other across the kitchen table.

                They turned their heads towards the door in alarm, differences forgotten in light of this new threat. Nobody had knocked on the door of the cottage in the woods for such a long time.

                “It could be one of Leroway’s men”, hissed Eleri. “I wonder how they found the cottage now it is so well hidden,” she added, unable to help herself.

                Glynis went to the window by the front door and peeped out.

                “It’s an old lady,” she said in surprise

                “Could be a trick! Don’t answer it! What’s an old lady doing in the forest this hour of the evening? That’s too strange.”

                Eleri rushed to the door and put her body in front of it, blocking Glynis.

                “She looks a lot like Margoritt, only shorter,” said Glynis. “I don’t sense any danger. I’m going to open it. Get out of the way will you.”

                “Well, I sense danger actually,” said Eleri haughtily but she stood aside and Glynis opened the door carefully, just a few inches at first, peeping out through the gap while Eleri hovered anxiously behind her. A plump little lady wearing a crinkly blue suit and a hat with a bird’s feather on it stood on the front step.

                “Hello, can I help you?” said Glynis

                “Hello dear, I was starting to think nobody was home. Is this where Margoritt lives? I do hope I have the right place. I have come such a long way.”

                Margoritt is out on business at the moment. May I ask what it is you want with her?” said Glynis politely.

                “I’m her sister, Muriel, from the North. I’m sure she must have spoken of me. Do let me in, dears. It is icy cold out here. And I think I may be having one of my turns because your lovely wee house is looking ever so twinkly. It’s the migraine you know … they get me in the head ever so badly now and then. It’s the stress of the long journey I think ….”

                She took a step inside, gently but firmly pushing Glynis and Eleri aside, and entered the room, a strong smell of lavender wafting off her clothes and lingering in the air around her.

                “I am not sure where my case is … I left it in the forest I think. Perhaps one of you young things could find it for me. It was getting ever so heavy. Now, tell me your names and then if someone could make me a nice hot cup of tea, and one for themselves of course!” She laughed brightly and Glynis and Eleri joined in though they weren’t sure why. “And perhaps you could get me a wool blanket for my knees and I expect after a good sleep I’ll be right as rain.” She looked around the cottage with a small frown. “I can see I have come to the right place. I’d know my sister’s tastes anywhere.”

                #4510
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Maeve sighed loudly—something she had been doing an awful lot of lately—and checked the time on her phone. If she left now and really hurried it would only take 5 minutes to get to the cafe. On the other hand if she took her time … well, with any luck the others would have already moved on.

                  Not that she didn’t like Lucinda, on the contrary she enjoyed her neighbour’s gregarious nature and propensity to talk amusing rubbish — usually in public and at the top of her voice which would cause Maeve to look around nervously and lower her own voice in order to compensate.

                  Maeve had made peace with her own introversion years ago. In order to survive with a semblance of normality, she had cultivated an outward calm which belied the activity going on in her head. The downside of this was she suspected she came across to others as muted and dull as the beige walls of her apartment. The upside was it allowed her to hide in plain sight; and she considered this to be a very handy trait. In truth, Maeve was one who liked many and few; she would happily talk to people, if she knew what on earth to say to them.

                  ‘Anyway,’ Maeve reasoned, ‘I have to finish the doll.’

                  She looked with satisfaction at her latest creation; a young boy wearing a vintage style buzzy bee costume. She had painstakingly sewn, stuffed and painted the cloth doll and then sanded the layers of paint till he looked old and well worn. ‘He looks like he has been well loved by some child,’ she mused. There was just one more step remaining before applying a protective coat of varnish and seating him on the shelf next to the others.

                  She went to the kitchen drawer. In the 3rd drawer down there was a cardboard box of old keys. Most of the keys didn’t fit anything in her apartment; in fact she had no idea where they came from. Except one. She picked out a small gold key and went to the writing desk in the lounge, a heavy dour piece of furniture with a drop-front desk and various small drawers and cubby holes inside. Maeve unlocked one of these drawers with the key and pulled out a small parcel.

                  ‘Only 3 parcels to go,’ she thought with relief.

                  A small section of the stitching was unfinished on the back of Bee Boy, just enough to squeeze the package inside and then rearrange the stuffing around it. With neat stitches Maeve sewed up the seam.

                  She checked the time. It had taken twenty six minutes.

                  “Want to go for a walk to see Aunty Lulu and her nice new friends? See what she is going on about decorating?” she asked Fabio, her pekingese.

                  #4484

                  “I think a sandstorm is coming” Rukshan pointed at Olli the menacing clouds galloping towards them. “We need to find cover!”
                  It was too risky for them to teleport again with this meteorological turbulence.

                  A small ridge of rock was showing not far from their landing spot. They started to rush towards it, their steps burrowing in the shifting sands making their run almost like a crawl.

                  “We won’t make it!” Olli had stumbled in the soft ground, his eyes filled with terror at the darkening reddish sky.

                  Olli, hurry! we’re almost there!”

                  “Kweee” a squeeky sound that almost felt like a purring seemed to alleviate Olli’s fears for a moment, and he managed to hurry back to cover.

                  “Not a second too early!” Rukshan shouted in the midst of the howling sands.
                  The rocky formation had a crevice which was just big enough for them, and would keep them safe. Rukshan had deployed a large cape to try to seal the entrance with a magical spell.

                  “Safe, for now.” He felt tickled. “What the…?”

                  “Kweeeyooobilibilibu” —

                  Rukshan raised an eyebrow to Olliver. “Did you feel necessary to bring one of the baby Snoot with you?”

                  “It’s not me, promise! It just hitched a ride on its own.” Olliver’s face was a mix of confusion and mischievousness, Rukshan couldn’t help but laugh heartily.

                  #4472

                  With a spring in her step that she had all but forgotten she possessed, Eleri set off on her trip to speak to her old friend Jolly about her husband Leroway’s latest plan that was causing some considerable controversy among the locals. Eleri planned to make the visit a short one, and to hasten back to Margoritt’s cottage in time for the departure of the expedition ~ because she surely wanted to be a part of that. But first, she had to see Jolly, and not just about Leroway. There was a sense of a stirring, or a quickening ~ it was hard to name precisely but there was a feeling of impending movement, that was wider than the expedition plans. Was Jolly feeling it, would she be considering it too? And if not, Eleri would bid her farewell, and make arrangements with her to send a caretaker down to her cottage. And what, she wondered, would happen about care taking the cottage if Jolly’s villagers were on the move again? Eleri frowned. How much did it matter? Perhaps a stranger would find it and choose to stay there, and make of it what they wished. But what about all her statues and ingredients? Eleri felt her steps falter on the old rocky road as her mind became crowded with all manner of things relating to the cottage, and her work.

                  You don’t have to plan every little thing! she reminded herself sternly. None of that has to be decided now anyway! It’s wonderful day to be out walking, hark: the rustling in the undergrowth, and the distant moo and clang of a cow bell.

                  The dreadful flu she’d had after the drenching had left her weakly despondent and not her usual self at all. But she’d heard the others talking while she’d been moping about and it was as if a little light had come on inside her.

                  She still had trouble remembering all their names: ever since the flu, she had a sort of memory weakness and a peculiar inability to recall timelines correctly. Mr Minn (ah, she noted that she had not forgotten his name!) said not to worry, it was a well known side effect of that particular virus, and that as all time was simultaneous anyway, and all beings were essentially one, it hardly mattered. But Mr Minn, Eleri had replied, It makes it a devil of a job to write a story, to which he enigmatically replied, Not necessarily!

                  Someone had asked, Who do we want to come on the expedition, or perhaps they said Who wants to come on the expedition, but Eleri had heard it as Who wants to be a person who wants to go on an expedition, or perhaps, what kind of person do the others want as an expedition companion. But whatever it was, it made Eleri stop and realize that she wasn’t even enjoying the morose despondent helpless feeling glump that she has turned into of late, and that it was only a feeling after all and if she couldn’t change that herself, then who the devil else was going to do it for her, and so she did, bit by bit. It might feel a bit fake at first, someone had said. And it did, somewhat, but it really wasn’t long before it felt quite natural, as it used to be. It was astonishing how quickly it worked, once she had put her mind to it. Less than a week of a determined intention to appreciate the simple things of the day. Such a simple recipe. One can only wonder in amazement at such a simple thing being forgotten so easily. But perhaps that was a side effect of some virus, caught long ago.

                  Enjoying the feeling of warm sun on her face, interspersed with moments of cool thanks to passing clouds, Eleri noticed the wildflowers along the way, abundant thanks to all the rain and all flowering at once it seemed, instead of the more usual sequence and succession. Briefly she wondered is this was a side effect of the virus, and another manifestation of the continuity and timeline issues. Even the wildflowers had all come at once this year. She had not noticed all those yellow ones flowering at the same time as all those pink ones in previous years, but a splendid riot they were and a feast for the eyes.

                  The puffy clouds drifting past across the sun were joining invisible hands together and forming a crowd, and it began to look like rain again. Eleri felt a little frown start to form and quickly changed it to a beaming smile, remembering the handy weightless impermeability shield that someone (who? Glynnis?) had given her for the trip. She would not catch another dose of the drenching memory flu again, not with the handy shield.

                  The raindrops started spattering the path in front of her, spotting the dusty ground, and Eleri activated the device, and became quite entranced with the effects of the droplets hitting the shield and dispersing.

                  #4461

                  Rukshan went into the forest and looked carefully for a particular creature. It was almost nightfall and there should be some of them already out on the branches. The air was cooler in the evening, thanks also to the big trees protecting them from the scorching sun, and Rukshan couldn’t help but think that the climate was really going haywire. One day cold, one week hot and wet. And this bad omen feeling that everybody seemed to get recently. He knew it was time to go, and despite the comfort of Margoritt’s cottage, he was starting to feel restless.

                  He was making a lost of noise, stepping on every dry twigs he could find. A couple of rabbits and the crowd of their offsprings jumped away, a deer looked at him as if he was some vulgar neighbour and the birds flew away, disturbed during their evening serenades. But this was the kind of noise that would attract the telebats, small nocturnal animals that you could use for long distance communication.

                  He found one on an old oak tree. It seemed to be in resonance with his cracking twigs. Rukshan hurried and caught it before the spell of his steps would dissipate.

                  Rukshan to Lhamom: Hope everything’s fine. Stop. Something happened. Stop. Need help organise trip to mountains. Over,” he whispered in the sensitive ears of the small animal. The telebat listened carefully and opened its little mouth, making sounds that no normal ears could hear. Maybe Fox could have, but he would have found it as annoying as the cracking twigs. Then Rukshan waited.

                  The answer wasn’t long to come. He knew it because the ears of the creature vibrated at high frequency. He listened into the creature’s left ear where he could hear the answer.

                  Lhamom to Rukshan: Father not well. Stop. I’m worried. Stop. Have to go home take care of him. Stop. I send Drummis to help you. Over.”

                  Rukshan responded with “Thanks. Stop. Hope everything well with Father. Stop. Have safe trip home. Over.”

                  He hung up the telebat on the branch where he found it, and gave it a moth that he had found on his way.
                  Rukshan frowned. He have never met Drummis. He wondered if he could trust him.

                  #4403
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    random plot generator

                    A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.

                    Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.

                    ALBIE
                    Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

                    JENNY
                    I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!

                    ALBIE
                    I am such a person!

                    JENNY
                    I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.

                    JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

                    Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.

                    ALBIE
                    Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

                    MATT
                    I’m afraid not.

                    ALBIE
                    What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…

                    MATT
                    It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

                    ALBIE
                    Defenseless elderly ladies?

                    MATT
                    Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

                    ALBIE
                    Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.

                    MATT
                    I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.

                    ALBIE
                    You can start by telling me where this happened.

                    MATT
                    I was…
                    MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.

                    ALBIE
                    Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

                    MATT
                    The Library! That’s right – the Library!

                    ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

                    EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

                    ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

                    INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

                    ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

                    ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

                    MATT
                    What is is? What’s the matter?

                    ALBIE
                    That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!

                    MATT
                    Who’s Roger Blunder?

                    ALBIE
                    Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

                    MATT
                    Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

                    ALBIE
                    You can say that again.

                    MATT
                    Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

                    ALBIE
                    I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.

                    Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.

                    ROGER
                    Albie Jones, we meet again!

                    MATT
                    You’ve met?

                    ALBIE
                    Yes. It was a long, long time ago…

                    EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

                    A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.

                    He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.

                    ROGER
                    Would you like some wine gums?

                    ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.

                    ALBIE
                    I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.

                    ROGER
                    Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.

                    ALBIE
                    Wait, you’re a hooligan?

                    ALBIE runs away, screaming.

                    INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

                    ROGER
                    You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.

                    MATT
                    (To ALBIE) You ran away?
                    ALBIE
                    (To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
                    ALBIE turns to ROGER.

                    ALBIE
                    I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
                    ALBIE runs away.

                    He turns back and shouts.

                    ALBIE
                    I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.

                    ROGER
                    I’m not scared of you.

                    ALBIE
                    You should be.

                    INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

                    ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

                    ALBIE
                    I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.

                    MATT
                    Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.

                    ALBIE
                    You know nothing Matt Humble.

                    MATT
                    We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.

                    Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

                    ROGER
                    Looking for something?

                    MATT
                    Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.

                    ALBIE
                    Tell me something I don’t already know!

                    MATT
                    The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.

                    ALBIE
                    I know that already!

                    MATT
                    I’m afraid of dust.

                    ROGER
                    (appalled) Dude!

                    While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.

                    ALBIE
                    Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

                    ROGER
                    No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

                    JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

                    ALBIE
                    I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.

                    ROGER
                    Don’t hurt me! Please!

                    ALBIE
                    Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!

                    ROGER
                    Because Albie, I am your father.

                    ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.

                    ALBIE
                    No you’re not!

                    ROGER
                    Ah well, it had to be worth a try.

                    ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.

                    ALBIE
                    Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?

                    Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

                    MATT
                    Did he just faint?

                    ALBIE
                    I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.

                    ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

                    MATT
                    Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.

                    ALBIE
                    No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!

                    ALBIE
                    What?

                    ALBIE
                    Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.

                    MATT claps his hands.

                    MATT
                    So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.

                    JENNY steps forward.

                    JENNY
                    Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?

                    ALBIE
                    Jenny how long have you been…?

                    JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

                    JENNY
                    Long enough.

                    ALBIE
                    Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.

                    JENNY
                    Then the elderly ladies are safe?

                    ALBIE
                    It does seem that way!

                    A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

                    JENNY
                    You are their hero.

                    The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

                    ALBIE
                    There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.

                    JENNY
                    You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!

                    One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

                    JENNY
                    I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.

                    ALBIE
                    I couldn’t possibly.
                    Pause.

                    ALBIE
                    Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.

                    ALBIE takes the ring.

                    ALBIE
                    Thank you.
                    The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.

                    ALBIE turns to JENNY.

                    ALBIE
                    Does this mean you want me back?

                    JENNY
                    Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
                    ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.

                    ALBIE
                    Well you can’t have me.

                    JENNY
                    WHAT?

                    ALBIE
                    You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!

                    JENNY
                    But…

                    ALBIE
                    Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.

                    MATT grins.

                    JENNY
                    But…

                    MATT
                    You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!

                    JENNY
                    Albie?

                    ALBIE
                    I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
                    JENNY leaves.

                    MATT turns to ALBIE.

                    MATT
                    Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?

                    ALBIE
                    Of course you are!
                    The two walk off arm in arm.

                    Suddenly MATT stops.

                    MATT
                    When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?

                    #4402
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      (With thanks to random story generator for this comment)

                      Albie looked at the soft feather in his hands and felt happy.

                      He walked over to the window and reflected on his silent surroundings. He had always loved haunting the village near the doline with its few, but faithful inhabitants. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happiness.

                      Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Ma. He felt his mood drop. Ma was ambitious and a mean-spirited bossy boots.

                      Albie gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an impulsive, kind-hearted, beer drinker. His friends saw him as an amusing foolish clown. But he was kind-hearted and once, he had even brought a brave baby bird back from the brink of death.

                      But not even an impulsive person who had once brought a brave baby bird back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Ma had in store today.

                      The inclement brooding silence teased like a sitting praying mantis, making Albie anticipate the worst.

                      As Albie stepped outside and Ma came closer, he could see the mean glint in her eye.

                      Ma glared with all the wrath of 9 thoughtless hurt hippo. She said, in hushed tones, “I disown you and I want you to leave.”

                      Albie looked back, even more nervous and still fingering the soft feather. “Ma, please don’t boss me. I am going to the doline,” he replied.

                      They looked at each other with conflicted feelings, like two deep donkeys chatting at a very funny farewell.

                      Suddenly, Ma lunged forward and tried to punch Albie in the face. Quickly, Albie grabbed the soft feather and brought it down on Ma’s skull.

                      Ma’s skinny ear trembled and her short legs wobbled. She looked excited, her emotions raw like a rabblesnatching, rare rock.

                      Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Ma was dead.

                      Albie went back inside and had himself a cold beer.

                      #4400
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        Inquisitive Bert
                        A Short Story
                        by trove flacy
                        Bert had always loved rambling Fish Inn with its boiled boarders. It was a place where he felt happiness.

                        He was an inquisitive, depressed, tea drinker with skinny ears and tall sheep. His friends saw him as a moaning, mashed monster. Once, he had even saved a nasty old lady that was stuck in a drain. That’s the sort of man he was.

                        Bert walked over to the window and reflected on his brooding surroundings. The rain hammered like jumping dog.

                        Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Mater . Mater was a bigoted flower with attractive ears.

                        Bert gulped. He was not prepared for Mater.

                        As Bert stepped outside and Mater came closer, he could see the lovely smile on her face.

                        Mater glared with all the wrath of 1553 honest hilarious hippo. She said, in hushed tones, “I hate you and I want information.”

                        Bert looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the new-fangled car. “Mater, I own the inn,” he replied.

                        They looked at each other with annoyed feelings, like two delicious, damaged donkey laughing at a very free house sale, which had piano music playing in the background and two sanguine uncles shouting to the beat.

                        Bert regarded Mater’s attractive ear. “I feel the same way!” revealed Bert with a delighted grin.

                        Mater looked puzzled, her emotions blushing like a loud, little letter box.

                        Then Mater came inside for a nice cup of tea.

                        THE END

                        #4392
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          “Tourists!” shouted Ugo the gecko to his albino friends. They all stopped and turned their heads in unison to look at the two humans who had entered the premises, inside their small chests their hearts beating fast with excitement like so many small shamanic drums that only gecko ears could hear. Ugo was so engrossed in those two humongous creatures and the hypnotic rhythm of his friends’ heartbeats that he didn’t see the suckers from his front left paw were getting loose again. They had been damaged in a fight with a twirling bat one week ago and they still hadn’t heal nicely because he didn’t care so much. Soon his left paw got detached from the ancient stones of the wall, followed by his right and soon he fell. But like he was made of sticking rubber the fall was short and he got stuck again on a lower stone, walking on the head of a few friends in the process.

                          “Sorry for that! I’ll have them checked, promise.”

                          Some of the geckos missed a heartbeat, frightened by the sudden turmoil. They ran in what might appear random directions and panic quickly spread among the albino geckolony on the wall. By a miracle of nature and because they were all so fascinated by tourists, the geckos rearranged nicely only to stop a sucking steps away and turned their head back again toward the tourists. Their hearts beating in unison again.

                          “Look! that dark wall over there with the white hieroglyphs. I’m sure it just moved!” said the tallest of the tourists. She was curious and decided to go watch by herself what that curious wall was about.

                          #4370

                          The memories of the strange vision had faded away. Only the feeling of awe was lingering in his heart.

                          Fox was walking in the forest near Margoritt’s cottage. The smell of humid soil was everywhere. Despite it being mostly decomposing leaves and insects, Fox found it quite pleasant. It carried within it childhood memories of running outside after the rain whild Master Gibbon was trying to teach him cleanliness. It had been a game for many years to roll into the mud and play with the malleable forest ground to make shapes of foxes and other animals to make a public to Gibbon’s teachings.

                          Fox had been walking around listening to the sucking sound made by his steps to help him focus back on reality. He was trying to catch sunlight patches with his bare feet, the sensations were cold and exquisite. The noise of the heavy rain had been replaced by the random dripping of the drops falling from the canopy as the trees were letting go of the excess of water they received.

                          It was not long before he found Gorrash. The dwarf was back in his statue state, he was face down, deep in the mud. Fox crouched down and gripped his friend where he could. He tried to release him from the ground but the mud was stronger, sucking, full of water.

                          “You can leave him there and wait the soil to dry. You can’t fight with water”, said Margorrit. “And I think that when it’s dry, we’ll have a nice half-mold to make a copy of your friend.”

                          Fox laughed. “You have so many strange ideas”, he told the old woman.

                          “Well, it has been my strength and my weakness, I have two hands and a strong mind, and they have always functioned together. I only think properly when I use my hands. And my thoughts always lead me to make use of my hands.”

                          Fox looked at Margoritt’s wrinkled hands, they were a bit deformed by arthritis but he could feel the experience they contained.

                          “Breakfast’s ready”, she said. “I’ve made some honey cookies with what was left of the the flour. And Glynis has prepared some interesting juices. I like her, she has a gift with colours.”

                          They left the dwarf to dry in the sun and walked back to the house where the others had already put everything on the table. Fox looked at everyone for a moment, maybe to take in that moment of grace and unlikely reunion of so many different people. He stopped at Rukshan who had a look of concern on his face. Then he started when Eleri talked right behind him. He hadn’t hear her come.

                          “I think I lost him”, she said. “What’s for breakfast? I’m always starving after shrooms.”

                          #4359
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            “So, that’s where the gardener has been hiding all this time…” Godfrey thought, quietly stepping out of the shadows into the sinkhole tunnels. “Maybe I’ll just tell Liz’ he has resigned. Although she seemed more taken by this one than with the previous guys…”
                            While the gardener was snoring loudly, he took time to look around, and noticed the sprouting sack.
                            “How curious that those old books have started to come to life again…”

                            An idea had crossed his mind, both dreadful and exciting. The portal…

                            Leaving the gardener to his dreams, and taking another secret exit out of the dark tunnel, opening another succession of doors with the turn of a key hanging from the watch chain of his burgundy waistcoat, he soon found himself reappearing into a deep secret place. A small round room, almost like the inner chamber of a burrow, with no visible door, no window, seemingly lit only by a single ray of light coming from the pinhole in the ceiling, reflected on the glittering curved walls. At one side, was a well, and one could hear the humming sound of flowing underground water.
                            On the well, where deeply carved words : “HC SVNT DRACONES”. Just below them, painted in white in Godfrey’s flowering handwriting : “Here be dragons!”

                            There still was the heavy latch, bolted by a large futuristic-looking lock.

                            Phew, still closed. Godfrey sighed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t imagine the damage to Liz’ frail hold on reality, where she to find about what was lurking behind.

                            Popping a peanut in his mouth, he smiled wryly, reminisced of what Finnley had said about her “discovering” of the attic; yes, their secret was fine with them for now. At least so long as what was locked on the other side stayed there of course…

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