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September 30, 2010 at 3:05 pm #2708
In reply to: Strings of Nines
Actually, the mindful reader would be glad to know that Waakaawaakawaawaawaawaawaawaawahuhun (or Wakawah-thirtyfour’n) wasn’t quite as safe as its almost twin city Wookoowookawoowoowoowoowoowoohoohoon (or Wookoowooh-thirty-fiv’n), both lying actually quite close for a bird, or a dragon, anchored at the bottom and at each of the sides of the same mountain.
While the former’s only attraction was the Kangrawaakaas’ Stadium with its weekly games of morbidly obese people hurling in the mud, the latter was known for its ski resorts and snow trance delixtacies in makeshift melloow yelloow yurts. Of course, W35N benefited from the better sunlight exposure, which made every dweller in the W34N hamlet fiercely jealous of its being favoured by all tourists passing by, while they (they thought) should be instead commanded for their bravery and perseverance.
And while Arona had her toes meticulously licked in blissful oblivion, little did Vincentius know what trouble was ahead were he to ask a W34N’er if he was in W35N…
August 26, 2008 at 11:37 am #1045In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Anita knew there was not much time, although there was the perfect amount of time.
She had seen in her meditation a secret passageway, a cave under a pool and two people going there, guided by some inner knowledge. All she had to do was to convince her parents to go there with her.
And perhaps they’ll be able to come back in their own time in 2038, and not in this past configuration thirty years too early.“Dad… Dad…”
“Mmmm… What sweetie? Where are the others?”
“Not far. Dad, wake up mum, and come with me, I’ll show you…”March 18, 2008 at 6:23 am #1746In reply to: Synchronicity
yes, lots of triple numbers. I thought of you before Tracy, a bit later I checked the time on my phone, it was 5:55pm
picked up my book to read just now, first line was:
Terry closed his eyes and smiled serenely. “Do you know what he charges for one dose? Three hundred and thirty three dollars. He says it is his magic number”
(they are talking about a dose of a new drug which allows people to have the experience of travelling to different realms)
F:heart: (do you like my new signature ? I thought I could sign all my comments like this, Tracy came online just as I wrote that ahahahaha I bet she thinks it is
)
February 9, 2008 at 8:47 pm #689In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— These are MY eggs! Nobody touches my eggs!
— Oh come on, you’re not gonna make these ostrich eggs hatch Cathy… Better have them made into a nice big omelet for our guests… Fleur said with a tentative smile.
— And why use MY eggs for that?! Moooom, she’s trying to steal my eggs…— What’s with all that fuss here? a coarse, yet sensual female voice said in the background of the kitchen.
— Mom, she wants to make an omelet with the eggs that granddad gave me…
— Calm down Catherine, will you… Is that true Fleur?
— Err… Madam Wrick, I suppose it was only a stupid joke… Thing is that wasn’t such a bad idea… There will be quite a few guests tonight, and… she began to falter as the eyebrows of Dorean Wrick were taking a more severe look. Err… I’m sorry, M’am, I’ll send Raster fetch some food for a nice meat pie, will it be nice?
— Perfect. That settles the matter then… Catherine, go back to your room, and let Fleur work. I’ll send you a maid to help you be prepared for our guests arrival.
— Yes, Mum.What a silly idea Theobald, her father have had, to give her step-daughter those eggs for her birthday… Big funny green eggs. He’d said they were ostrich eggs, but there were no ostrich in Mexico, as far as she knew. Of course, now the little girl’s only idea was to have the birds hatch and to mount them and ride in the slopes of Ireland.
This family was definitely insane, Dorean was thinking.
At least, she had thought her own branch of the family tree had been spared by the folly of her relatives and their attraction for occult and intangible things, but with that odd gift, it seemed to her more than likely that her father had followed the steps of his wricked brother… Or perhaps it was only an old man’s way of passing time. But knowing her father down-to-earth nature, that was not like him. He didn’t do things out of a whim, and there was probably more than met the eye having to do with the funny eggs…A few days ago, shortly after New Year’s eve and stepping into year 2034, she’d had received an unexpected parcel from her cousin, Sean Doran. A couple of wrapped books, he was asking her to keep in store for him. She always had liked her cousin, though they had only met two or three times when they were children. Thing was, family matters were more a wrickage than anything else, and they had barely kept in touch over the years.
She had distractedly opened the big ornate leather-bound books only to discover they were blank. What was the purpose of all of this, she didn’t know. But unlike most people, Dorean wasn’t interested in others’ businesses. She would keep the books, whatever they meant.And she had more pressing matters now.
Her guest were coming. Elvira and her demented husband were moving back, and were due to arrive tonight after a rather long expatriation in the lands of Russia. Having met that strange and impressive individual, the perspective of getting away in a foreign land leaving all the past behind, all of this had most probably saved Elvira from her depressive mood…
But she had been so isolated from her past that Dorean suspected that these almost thirty years abroad would have changed her profoundly.November 22, 2007 at 11:58 pm #459In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— 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…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.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…
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.
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