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  • #913
    Jib
    Participant

      The afternoon was hot, a bit moist and sticky too. Yurick and Yann were enjoying the freshness of Dory’s patio.
      Cold lemon drink in cocktail glasses, the radio playing some sun related song.
      Dan was out playing golf with friends and would be here for dinner.
      Dory, dozing on her rocking chair had told Yurick and Yann that they could use their computers, they had 2 of them, so Yurick could take Dory’s and Yann could take Dan’s. Yurick was busy checking his mails and answering all those who had submitted some article for the next issue of their e-zine, and Yann wanted some distraction. He was just looking at some pictures on Gurgle, some movies on Yootune. Some of them were cracking him up, and he had difficulties keeping his :-| face serious.
      At the same time he was browsing through Dan’s pictures folders. Some of them were really amazing. Pictures of Dory on the field, with her pith helmet and her brushes, her shovels or even her pick. She was very funny looking when she was finding something seemingly out of nowhere, having dug all day long with no result and then finally some treasure! Often, Yann thought, it was only some fragment of a vase or some broken tool, but she always had this awe-inspired gaze ;))

      What is the name of this singer again?, asked Yurick.
      You ask me?

      The grin on Yurick’s face was all that Yann was waiting for. Yann had no memory of names of singers or actors. Their face, once he had seen it were recorded in his mind, but their name was like a summer breeze, refreshing, but soon forgotten. He knew that Yurick was more asking that to himself.

      Dunno me luv. You can ask the mummy in the living room if you want…
      Hahaha, graowl

      Hehehe. Funny that, thought Yann. Coming back to the computer screen, his eyes fall on a strange folder name.
      Patate? What’s that!?
      Double-click.
      Just a few files. Videos mainly. The names weren’t very evocative…
      Yann picked one and waited for the movie to begin.
      It was kind of black and white movie… the grain was gross and old fashioned. There was no audio.
      Yann had an old memory of a similar movie seen on the comodor computer of his cousin’s parents… his cousin had told him about some weird movie he had found in a floppy disk of his father…
      So, there was a man, maybe in his 60’s, he was wearing a gray bathing suit and was a bit hairy. Drinking some kind of grey cocktail.
      A girl came in… with an amazing leopard baby-doll!!! from what Yann could see, she was blond and fleshy. Oh! and she had some friends. All of them with a leo-part on them :-?

      Ahem! Yurick? Wanna see what I found?
      Hmmm
      I’m sure you’ll find some interest :)) hahaha! Oh my Flove! She’s really doing it!?
      =))

      Seeing his friend hilarious picked the curiosity of Yurick and he eventually came to see. The look on his face when he saw what was happening was too much for Yann who burst into laughter. That was enough to wake Dory who almost fell off her rocked chair.

      What is that? Where did you find that… thing? Dory looked offended, but soon she was blushing.
      Oh! no… don’t look at that. It was a youthful mistake…

      #912

      Oh, shite, an aghast Yurick told Finn in the messaging window.
      What? asked Finn who was giggling (with great dignity) at the new comment he’d just made
      There will be retaliations says the cloud:

      “quickly storm stupid Dory closer front
      try suddenly syncs side free creating
      taken empty dreams let thread open
      against beautiful picked”…

      #1803

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster


        Yesterday sync: while watching a series, something popped in in relation to the crystal skulls.

        The thing is, Roslin, the woman character on the screenshot, is a president dying from a cancer, and is wearing a black wig. We had been discussing black wig with Finn previously.

        Later that night, Tracy shared about an experience that she and her friends just had during the afternoon, which was interpreted by Arkandin as a bleedthrough from a dying focus of her friend’s husband. He said that this focus would be in Chile.
        Tracy inquired if there was a Chile thread already in the story, to which I told her there was

        And I was quite impressed to see there was a connection not only to crystal skulls and Chile, but also with dying person, and wig…

        L-)

        #895

        The woman’s voice raised softly in the dark, like a velvet caress, or the sound of a purring cat.

        Life was long before I met Georges. Not unbearable, but so long and lifeless. Days would pass, and nothing new would happen but the same matter the previous days were made of.
        Though I no longer align to these limitations, I was once human, born to Earth, as Georges was, in a not so distant past. Like most of my people, I was not feeling special. But my will was strong and my desire to survive too. I survived poverty, lust and violence. In the crucible of these emotions I’ve melted my fears, and it was there I found Georges too.

        A curtain raises in the dark. A palace in an exotic tropical place. Brunei? Al doesn’t know this place…
        A young dark haired woman in a small room, around sixteen, perhaps a bit less, disheveled. She looks wildly around her, her rags stained with dust and dirt.

        Enters a tall woman. She doesn’t seem local. British perhaps. She’s elegantly dressed, thin mouth, high cheekbones, apparently in charge. A maid follows her. She can speak the girl’s language.

        Where is my mother? Let me out of here! she starts to cry
        I’m afraid this is not possible, Salome. For your safety,…
        What do you care about my safety!
        For your safety, Salome, hear me, try to behave. The Sultan is not a man without a heart. He loves beautiful women, and that is what probably saved your neck, considering what all what your mother did wrong to him refusing to pay taxes and her obstinate and bare-faced smuggling. Listen Salome, this might save you, and might save your mother as well.

        The curtain falls on the scene, where Salome hopes to have found a friend of captivity with this woman.

        A few years later, still in the golden cage of the harem, occasionally asked to service the lustful and violent Sultan, I start to go explore the depths of my misery. My inner world was a safe sanctuary, a haven from the pit of hell where I was now living, after my childhood years of hard work in the forest. There, where no one was given the key to enter, I became aware of him. I first thought he was an imaginary friend, a messenger from the other world, greeting me to a sure death. But he was real. He started to talk to me. About what I could do, like him, be a Traveler, if I wanted to.

        The curtain raises again. Young Salome is lying on her straw mat, in a seeming delirium. She moans, whispers, weeps, laughs. No one in the harem seem to care any longer. She is probably possessed, but the Sultan still find her suitable, she can’t be touched.

        A roar can be heard in the palace. The big black-bearded Sultan Ojylam the Second, ogre look on his face, summons his guard.

        — Don’t worry Salome, the voice of Georges whispers in the dark. The Sultan is mad at Madame Chesterhope. She has just fled with his precious crystal skull, but he won’t find her. She’s a skilled Traveler too, as soon you will be dear Salome, once you have learnt my last tricks, and we soon will be united.
        — Why that stupid crystal skull?
        — Don’t worry about it… This one is the Birds Skull. It carries lots of information and magic in relation to the Birds Realm, but it should be the least of your concerns. We’ll find Madame Chesterhope even if she’s clever at hiding between dimensions. Only concern for you must be to get out of here.
        — The Sultan will know I told her about it… I should have known, he was so proud of this object, and so protective too… And she was so curious…
        — That’s why we must hurry now.

        And so we were united for the first time. Lots of other lives have occurred afterwards, different paths at times, but always we have found each other again. Eternally bound, in a most sacred bound…

        #891
        Jib
        Participant

          His teeth had been nudging him for a few days, or maybe a few weeks actually. Last Wednesday, Yurick and him had a chat with their friends Michaela and Elias, and Yann told them about his questioning.
          Now, he was wondering about what was the meaning of all that in his new understanding of his reality. He was having the impression that he was in a complex video game and that at the beginning he hadn’t been told about all the fun stuffs he could do in it. Many aspects of this video game were unraveling and still he was feeling cold feet about jumping ahead.
          Yann was noticing that his teeth were nudging himself mainly when he was doing certain things, like judging himself, finding himself unworthy, trying to force himself in certain directions, or to force his body. It was like his body was an amazing communication device from him to himself. It was continuously giving him information, not only about his environment like temperature, smells, lights and images, but also about what would have been hidden like weather patterns, mass excitement or balance, mass tension or release…
          Elias had told him and Yurick that their energy was constantly open to each other, in a continuous merging and exchanging process. They were quite aware of that now, and at the beginning of their relation it would have been overwhelming, but now it was really fulfilling in many ways. Even when they were not in physical proximity, they would be together and feel each other. But they were also more centered upon themselves and they were not as influenced by the mood of the other as they had been ;)) they had reached a more balanced relationship and were beginning to intensify the movement.
          Yann had also begun to be aware of a humming tone, inaudible, but very present. It was humming under the veil of this reality and he had been told it was one of his language of communication. This was very intriguing and it was overlapping his interest in his body and his teeth, he was wondering about the effects of this humming tone on them.

          #1801

          In reply to: Synchronicity

          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            few spider synchs – the other night I had a vivid dream of a spider, a large one with a funny symbol on it’s back. I found it in my ice-cream and was trying to catch it in a small plastic jar. Then I decided I must search the icecream to see if there were any more spiders. The icecream parted in the middle and changed texture, resembling the texture of a spider’s nest. When I woke up I read Eric’s new comment

            I had been planning to add a spider comment to the tifikijoo island thread and was had a particular comment in mind. The next time I looked at the story site, the comment I had been thinking of came up as the random quote

            Franiel thread , where I talked about the messenger birds Fincheons and introduced a motorbike – I wrote this directly before going to my hairdresser. As he was talking he told me he had always wanted a motorbike. He had to leave me for a few minutes to move the motorbike of another client which was blocking the access way. He also told me he’d had an unusual bird incident, a fantail had on two separate occasions circled his head, freaking him out rather. The maori believe this bird is a messenger bird, some believe it is an omen of death, others that it is an omen of good-luck … well whatever it is regarded as a messenger. Another synch with the comment; the fincheons are grey birds, the fantail found commonly in NZ is the grey fantail

            A couple of synch numberplates today: EAGL 1 and EGY221

            #888

            Franiel lifted the metal latch and pushed open the creaking door of the old shed. In the darkness he could make out of the shape of boxes and other various objects, then, as his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, he saw the motorbike propped up against the far wall.

            What are you up to young man?

            Franiel jumped and spun around. It was Lydia, just returned from her journey to the market.

            Oh hello again! You startled me … Phoebe suggested I check out the motorbike, see if I can get it going.

            Lydia looked grave. Did she now? Well it’s been many a long year since that piece of junk worked. Anyway so you’ve met Madame Chesterhope then, and what did you make of her? She was giving Franiel that deeply penetrating stare again. Franiel wondered kindly if perhaps she was shortsighted.

            Oh very nice … and I met Vincentius the parrot too.

            Lydia chuckled. Did you now?

            Yes, actually Phoebe told me a rather unusual story.

            At that Lydia broke into gales of laughter. Let me guess, about mixing the aura and the egg?

            Yes, that’s right, replied Franiel, his face breaking into a smile too as he realised the absurdity of it.

            Lydia wiped the tears of laughter from her face. ’Ere Lad, I told you things are not what they always seem. She thought for a moment. I’m parched from my long walk, I am going inside to make a brew. Why don’t you join me? If you are going to be stopping then there are a few things you need to know.

            #884
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Tina sat for some time in the cafe after Becky had left, pondering the implications of Becky’s secret. Becky was right, it was quite exciting in a way, however the repercussions left her reeling … honestly you would think a time traveler would have more sense

              She scratched her head absentmindedly, her scalp had been very itchy lately. She wondered if she had better stop using her homemade egg hair shampoo. Well that was a bugger. She had been planning on marketing it through her business… HEGG FIRST SHAMPOO, with cute little egg people wearing shiny glossy wigs on the label … and, as a special limited time offer, she had been going to give away free Holy Water Conditioning Rinse as well. Sam had kindly agreed to bless it for her with this didjereedoo.

              She looked up just as a female entered the cafe, straight jet black hair, large dark sunglasses, fishnet tights and knee high boots. A black trench coat completed the stunning ensemble. Wow! thought Tina, She looks amazing, so eneggmatic and sexy. As though she had heard her thoughts the woman turned, and upon catching Tina’s eye, hurriedly looked away and walked quickly out of the cafe.

              How odd, thought Tina.

              Later, as she was researching black wigs on the internet … of course she could change the colour and structure of her hair through mind techniques, but that was still a bit slow for Tina, Al entered the room.

              Tina, are you busy?

              Uh Oh! Tina knew that tone of voice. She braced herself. Could Al have heard about Becky’s news ??? She told Becky there were no secrets!

              Your latest comments in the reality play are really really great. Most entertaining and unusual.

              Uh, thanks …. Tina said cautiously.

              I was just wondering however whether you had considered the time frame of your characters?

              Oh yeah course … you know .. give or take a few years .. or so …

              There are a few discrepancies I noticed, he went on, and it really does become rather problematic, some might say “messy” even.

              Tina rolled her eyes and grunted non-commitedly.

              Thanks Sweetie, I knew you wouldn’t mind sorting it out, said Al.

              #862

              “Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
              It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side.”

              Becky smiled at the marvelously appropriate Reality Play entry that she’d found whilst randomly reading back through their script notes.

              She’d had a hard time explaining to Sean about the probability glitch in which the note had appeared in the ‘wrong’ reality. He understood the concept of probable realities eventually, but he was hurt and confused as to why Becky had even thought to make up that probability in the first place. Becky hadn’t told him the full story about the dream, feeling that it may in some way be a self fulfilling prophecy if Sean knew that (in one probability, at any rate) he ended up an alcoholic, not to mention all those children! The very thought of all those children was enough to make Becky break out in a sweat, and she wasn’t inclined to add energy to that probable future.

              Becky explained that she had written the note to Sean (in the Reality Play) to tell him she was leaving him merely as a method of introducing some new characters, but Sean was deeply wounded.

              She did her best to placate her new husband and take his mind off it, even going so far as to don the shrunken tarty nun outfit. But after the romantic interlude, when Becky had fallen asleep, Sean was unable to stop thinking about it, and he wandered dejectedly into the kitchen, and poured himself a large whiskey.

              In an ironic twist of fate, a glimpse into a probable future had affected the present, and Sean’s descent into confused drunkenness began in earnest.

              #859

              The wind howled. It screamed in fury. Cyclone Ycart in all its majestic glory was ripping over the island, screaming out its rage, like a demon swirling from hell.

              The rain started.

              Veranassessee shivered and cursed beneath the onslaught. Water saturated her long hair, plastered her thin cotton dress to her body and rain ran in rivulets down her face.

              She looked wildly around, trying to suppress the hysteria rising in her chest. She screamed out their names, but her voice was carried away by the winds. Breathing roughly, she paused, drawing in a calming breath.

              Then she saw them.

              Goddamit!

              She stared in bewilderment. She could barely believe what she was seeing. Mavis had been right when she nervously told her Sharon and Gloria were having a picnic on the beach. There they were like two beached whales, apparently oblivious to the waves lashing perilously close to them.

              For a moment Veranassessee was sorely tempted to leave them to their fate.

              #851
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                “Wow, it was starting to become a hell of a smoky place place in there!” Al was thinking. “Better bugger off before I get asphyxiated” as a tornado of numbers and probable numbers of plans started to whirl in a tornado coming in his direction.

                Poof he was back home.

                “At least, Becky was home…” he said to apparently no one. “So I suppose everything is alright now.”

                You should have listened to me Al sweetie, Tina answered, while brushing her luscious hair in the bathroom. I’ve told you Becky was fine. Though I wonder where that strange reindeer-legs-addicted chaperon of hers disappeared…

                #845

                She put down the plate of honeycomb and turned round slowly, her calm exterior belying the fear which had suddenly gripped her insides.

                He had called her Agent V!

                She had to stay calm, think quickly.

                And why is that, Jarvis?

                Jarvis, what did she know about him? He had been employed by Dr Bronkelhampton, although Veranassessee had resisted the idea vigorously. The fewer people on the island the better as far as she was concerned. But the doctor had insisted he needed someone to tend the gardens, and in the end she had decided it wasn’t worth making an issue of.

                I think I might be able to answer that question. Agent Gabriele entered the kitchen. His sudden presence had almost as disconcerting effect on Veranassessee as the revelation that Jarvis knew her identity.

                A little sideline of our beloved Doctor is to experiment with honeybee mutations. Isn’t that right, Jarvis? And in the process he has discovered a way to alter the chemical composition of the honeycomb. It looks and tastes like honey, but too much of it is deadly.

                Veranassessee turned to Jarvis. You knew this Jarvis …. but then why leave it in the fridge … and why warn me?

                Wasn’t me left it in the fridge. I saw it there earlier. I figured the Doctor left it there. Buggered if I know why. He’s an odd one that one. Getting odder by the minute too.

                A loud clattering outside and they all turned.

                Winds getting up quickly, said Agent Gabriele in clipped tones. Secure the hives Jarvis. God knows we don’t need mutated bees on the loose. V tell the guests to stay in their rooms and away from the windows, and then meet me in my room. I’ll deal with the Doctor.

                :fleuron:

                Bloody windy here aint it. Thought I was coming to a bloody tropical paradise! Mavis was looking outside anxiously.

                Oh this aint typical. The weathers been grand. We’ve been out bloody sun baking most days.

                Oh we have! The sun and airs got special beauty qualities here. That Vessie told us that. Encourages us to get out and about.

                Ere I know what will cheer you up. Lets get a snack from the kitchen. There’s some special ureu beauty biscuits in the pantry, and the chocolate brownies are bloody delicious. Who’d have thought chocolate had special beauty qualities eh. She’s a genius that Vassie. Oh I tell you what, I found some lovely honeycomb in the fridge this morning! Sharon licked her lips in anticipation.

                Oh I’m bloody drooling here, Sha! You’re a bloody genius you are

                #841

                Jarvis was dozing in a dark corner of the kitchen. He was dreaming of bees, he had been assigned to the bee keeping a few weeks ago, just after the “incident”. He was one man the Dr could trust. In a previous life, he was keeping bees as a family business. But an accident with the bees led to his dismissal by his uncle. A regrettable accident, too much smoke, too much dead bees. Jarvis had been thinking of a sabotage, surely he had been framed but as he was thinking of quiting this poor paid job, it was also a perfect occasion.

                He had been engaged as a security agent… sort of. He had to pretend to be a gardener and not awake suspicion among the others. The funny thing is that he had soon been contacted by another organization, and had been offered quite a good price. All he had to do was observe and dream. Unfortunately, the man, Claude, who had approached him was disguised as a patient… and he had disappeared after the “incident”. Since then Jarvis had been having strange dreams of mummies, magpies, there was even one with 3 eyes 2 nights ago :yahoo_waiting:

                The light was turned on abruptly. Someone was arriving, still hidden by the tables and shelves.
                With the sound of the heels on the tiled floor, that was a woman… or the Doctor.
                A little twinge told him not to let him be noticed yet. He moved his head silently in a position from which he could see who it was.
                Oh! that big athletic woman, Vasse.
                Claude had told him about her. Jarvis had to be very cautious, because she was of another organization… another :cat_confused: he was calling her agent V. Well Jarvis wasn’t curious enough to ask any further detail, there were already too much to remember.

                She was doing something with a little jar of a brown substance, and brought a spoon full at her mouth. Her sudden coughing and spitting almost made him fall off his chair. But hopefully with all the noise she hadn’t noticed. Mumbling, she was heading toward the fridge. Was she possibly aware of…

                Yes! she was taking the plate with the honeycomb… he’d have to move quickly.
                As she was considering the modified honeycomb, he realized that she was about to eat it. So she didn’t know. :-? He had to warn her.

                — I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V…

                #836

                Anita was playing with her new friend.
                The Snoot, it had told her was its name. The Snoot was very ancient, very curious tooo.
                The Snoot was asking loads of question, though they weren’t formulated with words, because the Snoot wasn’t speaking. It was too slow for the Snoot.

                Nonetheless she was giggling, distracted from the preoccupations of Akita and the others.

                #834

                Five months.
                If he recalled well, it was barely five months (five months and five days perhaps) he’d had that dreamYurick was thinking distractedly, while munching on his toast of vegemoth, crumbs falling in his cup of lotus flavoured tuo-cha.
                Only five months! It had felt like ages had passed, lifetimes even…
                Energy realisations went really fast these days, once the prime idea was here. And for sure it had been floating around for quite some time, but truly it had been a quick birthing, and rather painless too.

                He was suddenly brought to his sense —and a certain idea of reality— when he saw Dory’s chat window flicker. He almost spluttered his tea on the screen as he saw the egg pictures she had just posted on her new social playground. A dark website of kinky appearance, where her new friends would probably guess eggs where her fetish and fifty-seven an exotic tantric position they’d be blissfully whipped with a wisp of fresh nettles to get taught.
                Well energy could take many shapes and forms, and for sure, five months ago, he wouldn’t have guessed one of these forms would be vegemoth and oval-shaped sex-toys.

                Speaking of vegemoth, he smiled as he saw the level of the dark brown salty paste noticeably diminishing in the small jar. Since he and Yann had been initiated by Dory to that strange Australian shamanic drug, and the unknown pleasures and twisted dream and trance induction it provides, they had been surprised to find it legally displayed for sell on their usual store at the exotic-mysterious-and-potentially-lethal-Eastern-products shelf. Along with an even stronger version of it, they’d been told… MARMOTH that Yann had consented they would get after the vegemoth would be eaten.

                Ahahaha… At that rate, that would happen before they know it!

                #1791

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  ahhahah yes definitely foggy brain synch

                  egg synch, my mother choked on hardboiled egg the other night and they had to do the … H technique (T already told me what the word was but old foggy mongy brain here can’t remember) on her.

                  I was looking at jewelery yesterday, a friend on multiply makes jewelery and I was looking at her photos thinking how lovely they were

                  #1785

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  Jib
                  Participant

                    Hey that s a synch yes because when we arrived in Spain, I was feeling different sounds from the earth like inner ones and at that moment TP pointed in the very same direction I was feeling the buzzing sound and she told me Salitre was there.

                    And when I first came in her bathroom, I say this poster of “The Mummy and the Humming bird” after you told me about your post of the humming earth.

                    #823

                    It had been more than a week now that Claude had broken loose from one captivity to fall into another.
                    Not that this gang of strange shape-shifting magpie beings seemed to consider him a captive, rather an impromptu host that they felt obliged to take care of. But Claude wasn’t duped one moment.

                    His precedent prison on Tikfijikoo had been relatively easy to break out from, thanks to that unasked for gift of preternatural strength he had gained from the experiments he had be subjected to. Actually, had he not almost been driven mad from pain, he would have been on the loose earlier. Thank the Magpies for his recovered sanity…
                    Security on the island facility wasn’t the highest and most difficult he had been confronted to. They seemed to consider the relative isolation of the island and its deadly sharp coral reef encircling it their main asset in keeping their experiments clear from outside interferences.

                    Claude snapped back from his thoughts and gazed fixedly at a tender green sprout at his feet while humming a nursery rhyme. An effective trick.
                    He had to be more cautious… He knew they could read his surface thoughts…
                    Apparently, he could come and go as pleased him, but as he had tried to find his way back to the island facility, he had discovered that the landscape was changing each time he felt close to it. And soon enough, he was finding himself back to the hidden settlement. He knew enough to suspect his affable alien hosts of playing tricks on his mind to keep him in check. Perhaps they were even bending space around their settlement, as far as he knew…
                    Not intrusive, and yet not a very different treatment from the inhumane experiments. Except he had no mummy bandages this time…

                    Know thy foe so went the adage, and Claude was determined to know enough about his new captors to escape and complete his mission.
                    From what he was guessing, as they had not killed him, they probably would release him (if he was lucky) as soon as their mission would be completed —a mission which was most probably the same as his own. Snatching the crystal skull he knew was there somewhere. He could sense they were after it too.
                    He was wondering who had hired them to retrieve the thing. Obviously they were not from the common lot of thieves, most certainly not even from this planet, and anyone who had hired them must have been in dire need of the thing.
                    He had been told by the Baron that the crystals were storing ancient vast knowledge and that accessing it had been only possible since a few decades, actually since the discovery of coherent beams of light (laser). But even accessed, the information stored remained vastly incomprehensible, and deciphering it could take another millennium without appropriate knowledge of its holographic proprieties.
                    The Baron had told humanity was like a child being given a box of books on relativity… And even the mad transvestite doctor was only toying with the tip of an immense iceberg.

                    Those Magpies were far more advanced, Claude could see it clearly, and he wondered how he could outdo them, if that was possible. Quite frankly he didn’t know why they had not yet retrieved it. Perhaps they were having trouble locating it too…
                    That would mean he still had a head start, however short.

                    :fleuron2:

                    A faint barking sound seemed to echo in his head… It was apparently coming from… the gnarled trunk of an old majestic tree… Whispers seemed to come from it too, like a child talking with an adult, and whispers around them…
                    The tree seemed wide enough for him to enter into the biggest crack of its bark…
                    Could it be one of their secret entrances and exits? There had to be coordinate points were they could get out of this warped space… What was he risking to try?

                    #1772

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      DANGEROUS ROADS SYNCH:
                      On the news last night was a story of a man who had driven off the road and over the cliff on one of the South Island Roads. He was trapped for 16 hours, however the story had a happy ending because his elderly mother had intuited something was amiss and had gone out looking for him. She saw the tyre marks where his car had skidded off the road. One of the reports I read said that he was 57 km from home at the time.

                      NUMBERS:
                      I have had three bookings recently for $555. The last one paid by credit card and I got sent an email notification. It told me that the egate fees were $22.20 and that $532.30 had been deposited into my bank account.

                      #817

                      How restless that dragon is, thought Arona. Always shifting this or that, always talking in his damn riddles. She thought fondly of Buckberry, and how peaceful and content he seemed by comparison.

                      She was no longer sure where she was. She had gone over it a few times in her mind, but try as she might she could not make sense of Leormn’s cryptic explanations. Or that Malvina either, although at least she is a bit more pleasant about it.

                      Anyway, wherever it is, it feels a bit grey, she decided matter-of-factedly. And I am missing the others, even that grumpy Mandrake if the truth be told.

                      She closed her eyes and began to paint colours over the grey. She was not sure what to paint at first, so she just dabbed bright blobs of colour haphazardly onto her mind’s canvas. The colours began to run into each other and form shapes and it it seemed to her they wanted to take on a life of their own. So she let them, and it was not long before she found herself in a meadow of spring flowers.

                      That’s much better, she thought, taking a deep breath and lying back in the soft green grass.

                      :fleuron:

                      As she lay there her mind drifted sleepily, butterfly thoughts every now and then resting on some bright petal in her field of flowers.

                      Just living is not enough, said the butterfly as it danced by her head, one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.

                      Oh! said Arona excitedly, recognising the words from a far away time, You must be the butterfly of the story! The one my grandmother used to tell me when I was a little girl in the Village.

                      Perhaps I am! danced the butterfly and it whirled and twirled and swirled in the sky.

                      Arona rolled her eyes in exasperation. Now you sound a bit like that wriggly dragon. A simple yes or no would suffice.

                      The butterfly landed on her nose. Now listen here you! Don’t go blaming me. I am YOUR imagination!

                      Oh good point Butterfly, said Arona graciously. She pondered a moment … Well in that case …

                      And next moment Mandrake, Vincentius and Yikesy were sitting in the meadow with her.

                      Oh THERE you are Missy, said Mandrake. Might have known you would be lying around in some spring meadow leaving Vincentius and myself to look after your little sprog. Tsk Tsk, he tutted.

                      hmmm, thought Arona, that’s not quite what I had in mind ..

                      I would have said it’s exactly what you had in mind, whispered the butterfly, fluttering by her ear and then off again until it disappeared into the field of colours.

                      Arona turned her attention to Vincentius and Yikesy, sitting a short distance away in the meadow. She noticed how smooth and golden Vincentius’ skin looked in the morning sunlight, and how deep and melodic his voice was as he told Yikesy one of his seemingly endless repertoire of stories. Imagining a gentle hug and a kiss on his sweet, but it had to be said incredibly ugly face, she sent Yikesy into a peaceful sleep.

                      Oh great idea, smiled Vincentius with a wink. What I had in mind all along really. Perhaps you could also imagine Mandrake chasing a field mouse or something?

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