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  • #3311

    “Pierre is following us”, said Mirabelle.
    “Well, good for him”, retorted Lisa, “he’s been on the lazy slope lately. I’ve been worrying about him.”
    Mirabelle and Adeline gulped.
    “He’s not been so lazy, he’s been helping Fanella with her granite box”, said Adeline, thinking it might distract Lisa from the W-word.
    “A box ? What box ?”
    “It looked more like a stone coffin”, said Mirabelle always picky with words.

    Lisa stopped. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t been aware of Fanella’s latest fad. She turned, facing Pierre who unconsciously slowed down his pace. His face showing uncertainty.

    “The girls told me you were helping Fanella with a box”, said Lisa when Pierre was close enough. He looked at them and down to his feet.

    “She said it would help her relax”, he mumbled, “maybe she’s just taking a nap in her box”, he added, his voice trailing off.
    “That would be a hell of a nap! Show me.”

    Pierre took the lead and showed them to Fanella’s atelier. The tools were still there. The granite box was empty. Near the box was a tray with a cup of tea, full, and a few toasts with cheese. The tea was cold. The toasts untouched.

    #3308
    Jib
    Participant

      “Madame, a message from your mother. She’s waiting for you in her room.”

      Linda Pol, ensconced in a lumpy chair at the hotel bar, got confused at the mention of her mother. She had forgotten for a moment that it was the code for her meeting with Amber Graystone. The boy was wearing the hotel livery, the fur was a perfect fit on that young body. He must have been eighteen, at least, it was illegal in most states to employ underage personnel. He was presenting her a folded paper on a silver plate. That was so cliché, the Management should keep up to date with the latest unusual methods.

      She took the paper delicately. Thick, three hundred grams at least. Grainy yet satin-smooth. She thought the Management had money issues. She opened it and saw a single number inside. 88857.

      “There must be a mistake, mon ami. Certainly your hotel is big, but it doesn’t have so many stories.”
      The boy smirked.
      “Please follow me, I’ll show you the way. Oh, and keep the card with you.”

      Linda Pol had become cautious with age, but she had to admit the thrill of adventure and mystery was exciting. Especially presented on a silver plate by such a gorgeous minion. Something she hadn’t felt often lately.

      She smiled, stretched her left arm and fluttered her fingers. Those chairs were so deep that you could’t get up without looking like getting out of the armpit of a gorilla. The boy helped her out, a surprised look on his face when she appeared to spring on her feet like a young damsel. Those morning fitness sessions were paying off after all.

      “Show me everything”, she said with her best doe eyes.
      Come on, Pol. He could be your son, she thought. The youngest, added her mother’s disincarnate voice.

      #3306

      Irina started to smell foul play when she arrived at the coordinates indicated in the last of the laconic messages sent to her by the Management.

      “Are you sure you got the coordinates right Mr R?”
      “Very much so Madam, but if you will allow me, I will double check to alleviate the hint of doubt I perceive in your most suave voice.”
      “Yes, do that please.”

      When becoming anxious, Irina tended to get prone to bossiness, and didn’t like what she heard in her voice.

      “I adore this door.”
      Yes, that was much better with suave undertones, with a hint of foreign raspy accent to spice it up.

      In truth, the door was plain, wooden, with a number painted on it, half erased, and a series of symbols which, although she could not place them, raised a distant alarm in her mind.
      “Rainbow magic?…” That was how they renamed the lore of black magic when it was privatized and re-marketed to the masses. She had not seen rainbow magic in ages, and there was no way that door would lead to an actual island without moving her out of this time and space.

      “Bloody buggers. Should have read those cryptic fine prints more carefully.”

      She realized there was a good chance her promised island was in a godforsaken place lost in time. She could count herself lucky if the deserted island was not in the palaeolithic and raided by dangerous dinosaurs…

      There was little choice. Either boldly embrace the great unknown behind the door, and trust her luck, or stay behind, short of the island of her dreams and probably condemned to run from the Management’s evil plans anyway.
      At least, with option one, the lottery could be favourable.
      That was what you got for dabbling in sketchy and questionable shots.

      “Mr R, are you ready?”
      “Always, Madam.”

      She felt lucky and pressed the door.

      #3299
      Jib
      Participant

        It hadn’t been easy to obtain Sadie a pay raise. The management always seemed to look for new ways to cut the costs wanted to give her an extra for the good job. Although this time, LP could put the golden balls and the rebirth of the network in the balance. They could have had enough to give the whole team a decent salary. Indeed, it wasn’t really fair that the young queens were not paid at all. Unless of course you counted props, wigs and fake eyelashes. Eventually, Linda got Sadie the extra and the raise she had asked for, and new contracts for the three young queens. She shall not forget the tears of joy in their eyes when she announced them they were part of the big Queer Network family. It had made her feel good and generous even if it was not her money she was giving.

        Linda Pol wrapped her luscious lips around an authentic straw and sucked up voraciously the glowing rainbow cocktail. Mmmmm, this new Peas’cocktail is divine, she thought. After the buzz created by their last network and that mysterious quest of Saint Germain for Peasland, peas-thingies were everywhere. She put the glass back on the edge of the Jacuzzi and looked at the little magenta umbrella for a moment. She didn’t know what was the most pleasing, the bubbles gently massaging her back in the water, or the gorgeous scenery of the Merry Otter resort in Maui. Linda Pol hadn’t had good vacation in a long long time, and if she had been in vacation this place could totally be one of her first choices destinations.

        Unfortunately, she wasn’t there for vacations or relaxation. She wasn’t there for exercise either. She had been asked to attend a conference and meet with one of those new Random Science scientists specialized in the ambergris tiles. As if it was a joke from the Universe, her name was Amber Graystone. But Linda Pol had long learned that there were no such thing as unusualness, you just hadn’t seen enough of the world.

        A boy came to refill her cocktail. Girl, you spend too much time looking at young bums, she thought, ageing beliefs were everywhere. She was feeling drowsy with the bubbles and the alcohol, almost dreaming of whales and ambergris.

        “… Graystone is taking her job too seriously”, said a man’s voice.

        Linda Pol opened her eye, just enough so that her fake eyelashes could still hide she was awake. When she was young, her curiosity had put her in trouble more times than the number of her pair of shoes. She had developed strategies and an incredible butt recognition skill. It had helped her win many contests in her youth and avoid boring conversations later on.

        The two men wore bath suits. Linda could clearly see that one of the butts was slack and lifeless. Almost avoiding the contact with the fabric. An American butt fed with hamburgers and soda. The rest of the silhouette seemed to naturally spread out from its central component.

        The other one moved like a mustang, the shiny red lycra was only here to help you see more clearly the outline of the flesh, not hide it. The curve of the bottom of the spine indicated a Russian ancestry. She felt a rush of adrenaline. She loved how Russians rolled their Rs. They could do many things with a rolling tongue.

        “You want me to take carrre of herrr ?” asked a voice carrying ice.

        “No, just remind her to whom she owes her subsidies. And her results.”

        #3293

        The whales’ dance on the dark bluish background lit by the tiniest reflection on floating seahorses and other sea creatures, made the scenery look like an eerie night skyline, full of moving stars.
        The added feeling of weightlessness was empowering, and soon, the three queens passed side glances, barely interested by the words of wisdom of the hologram, and catching each other’s mind, almost asked their question at the same time.

        Terry was the quickest this time, “Please, please, can you do a rendition of the Name Game with your disco ball lights, we’re all dying to do a dance! Please?”

        Interestingly, the Hologram didn’t show any hesitation as it started to sing, and the three queens were all glowing as they adjusted their wigs, fins and other appendages.

        The Name Game
        Terry!
        Terry, Terry bo Berry Bonana fanna fo Ferry
        Fee fy mo Merry, Terry!
        Sadie! Sadie, Sadie bo Badie Bonana fanna fo Fadie
        Fee fy mo Madie, Sadie!
        Come on everybody!
        I say now let’s play a game
        I betcha I can make a rhyme
        Out of anybody’s name …

        The lights were on, and the dresses glittered, Terry in the spur of the moment added kelp extensions to her wig to match the sardine tones of her suit, while Sadie’s only concession to fashion was a little glowing golden jellyfish that seemed to match her bob cut, and made for a funny pulsating hat.

        Adamus was on, and unstoppable

        The first letter of the name,
        I treat it like it wasn’t there
        But a B or an F, or an M will appear
        And then I say Bo add a B
        Then I say the name and Bonana fanna and a fo
        And then I say the name again
        With an F very plain and a fee fy and a mo
        And then I say the name again
        With an M this time
        And there isn’t any name that I can’t rhyme.

        A chorus of dolphins tried to join, having Consuela burst hysterically into peals of unstoppable laughter.

        Consuela!
        Consuela, Consuela bo Bonsuela Bonana fanna fo Fonsuela
        Fee fy mo Monsuela, Consuela!
        But if the first two letters are ever the same,
        I drop them both and say the name
        Like Bob, Bob drop the Bs Bo ob
        For Fred, Fred drop the Fs Fo red
        For Mary, Mary drop the Ms Mo ary
        That’s the only rule that is contrary.

        Maurana was shaking her head in seducing moves, pretending not to die of envy of the others, and expecting her turn.
        And the music went on…

        Okay? Now say Bo: Bo
        Now Belen without a B: Elen
        Then Bonana fanna fo: bonana fanna fo
        Then you say the name again with an F very plain: Felen
        Then a fee fy and a mo: fee fy mo !
        Then you say the name again with an M this time: Melen
        And there isn’t any name that you can’t rhyme
        Maurana! Maurana, Maurana bo Baurana Bonana fanna fo Faurana
        Fee fy mo Aurana, Maurana!

        And they continued with all sorts of names for quite a while, even some of the whales’ and dolphins’ who were obviously enjoying the interlude.

        :fleuron:

        “Did you get all that on video?” Maurana asked Sadie.
        “Of course I did, the ezapper got it all. Linda Paul and the network won’t believe their eyes, it’s some heavy material! Even better than gold bars!” Sadie could barely believe what had just happened.

        The whales seemed to have been so thrilled that after a moment of silence, a smaller one broke off the cycle, went to the huge crystal and took a heart shaped shard of it to offer them.

        “I guess that’s their way of burning a DVD, what do you think?” Consuela was blissfully hopeless with technology, but could also have some moments of brilliance.

        “We should go now” Sadie said looking up from the ezapper “it looks like some unidentified giant blue crab is coming at us, and we better let the whales handle it.”

        “Are we going through that awful sewer again?” Maurana was starting to get green at the idea.

        “I don’t think so, I had Sanso pick us up at the underwater cave thanks to Consuela surprise reconnaissance mission. He just arrived and he just texted me his location. It’s not far from here. He seems to have managed to herd a few octopi to carry us across. Always surprisingly resourceful this one, I might start to like him…”
        Snapping from her emotions, she continued
        “Time to say your adieus to 2222 ladies. Tonight, everyone’s a winner. We’re going to be famous.”

        #3291

        Jonbert’s arms nearly fell, when his pet robot blurted out the news.
        WHAT?!”
        It could only mean one thing, someone was purposely sabotaging his efforts to gain life everlasting. How else could the keys have been activated in the presence of the crystal. He had specifically designed it to be activated by his own DNA.
        Good thing at least it had sent a signal to the central computer of the submarine, otherwise he would have been in the dark before the questions were exhausted.

        “Bloody buggers will ruin all my chances with their silly questions” There was no time to think, only for action. He buttoned his kilt, buckled his heavy studded leather belt, and flushed the toilet where he was sitting and shouted “Bring my exosuit! No! Not the one with the tentacles! No, not the clam-like one, dammit! Are you deaf or what, the one with the pincers!”

        #3288

        “That’s amazing”
        “How wonderful!”
        “Wow, so great!” … For a moment, was all they could say, in varying lengths and tones of “ooo’s”.

        While they were looking at the show from a distance, Sadie realized they were not alone.

        “Madam, if I may disturb, it seems you have dropped your key”
        The robot which had suddenly appeared looked vaguely like the one which had dropped them underwater, except for the octopus costume. After all, all robots looked the same.
        Sadie took the key a bit suspiciously, and in the second she took to examine it and as she was about to reply it wasn’t hers, noticed the robot had already vanished.

        “How strange it looks just like the sister key to the one Maurana got in France, the key from the ferrets… Wonder never ceases…”

        “Honey, may I interrupt your voovvvs and borrow your key for a minute” she asked Maurana.

        The two keys seemed to match, and when pressed together, clicked and became one, without any visible seam.
        Without notice, it suddenly escaped Sadie’s grasp, and darted towards the crystal, as if activated by it.

        Sadie covered her ears, thinking it would shatter the crystal, but its vibration absorbed the key, and it started to glow more wildly.

        A voice started to echo deep under.

        “My name is Adamus St Germain, please ask your three questions.”

        #3287

        When the Whales had learnt from Belen that the Conch ritual would not be enacted, it set the tone of the Ceremony.
        Less ceremonious, and opening the Gates for a new Era of new learning based on trust and self-discoveries.

        The Dances started, and enthralling gyrations flowed, enhancing the visions induced by the pulverized red algae floating around the seabed. Octopi were drumming in cadence, the Whales solemnly turning, undisturbed by the dolphins high on the algae who were tittering stupidly.

        In the middle of the cycle, the gorgeous crystal was pulsating and glowing.

        #3258
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          The curly beard of one of the men caught Lisa’s attention, and she tuned in to what he was saying, her focus fully on the windscreen reflection now, the car and it’s concurrent timeframe having faded from view. “It’s an honour to be killed by a bull , Intu ,” he said to the woman walking beside him. “Your grandfather’s death is heroic, you will appreciate that in time.”
          “Perhaps in time, Balthazar,” she replied, “But I wish he was still here.”
          Balthazar patted her shoulder, and Lisa noticed his ring ~ two dolphins leaping. With a flash she understood that Intu’s grandfather had refocused as a dolphin, many centuries later in the silk like sea off the shores of Faro.
          “You can write a story about him on a stone tablet when we get to Almodovar. And I promise I won’t give you a hard time about continuity.”
          Intu smiled weakly. She did enjoy writing random stories on stone tablets, often wondering if the people of the future would be able to make sense of them and put the pieces together. She had left tablets of stories here and there as she traveled, sign posts to elsewhere and elsewhen, imprinted with the energy of adventure and mystery, laden with clues for imaginative voyagers to unravel in any way their fancies led them.

          #3215

          So this is 2222, thought Sadie, relaxing back in the warm sand. Not bad so far! I wonder where we are. Further along the beach she could hear the sound of laughter and bickering as the boys and Sanso practised their moves for the upcoming show—the details of which were still under wraps. Linda Paul, now she had sobered up, seemed to have forgotten her strange request for Sadie to take on a drag queen identity. ”Thank Flove!” Sanso, however, with unexpected enthusiasm had taken on the non de plume “Miss Titters” and insisted that he was going to join the 3 divas on stage for their closing number.

          “Miss Titters! A bit childish,” Sadie rolled her eyes, then noticing that it did not feel good to be judgemental, chastised herself. That didn’t feel good either so she chastised herself for chastising herself. Fortunately at that moment a Juicy Lemon came through on her e-zapper interrupting her rampage of chastisement with perfect synchronicity.

          Oh just release that little bird

          ***

          Irina perched on the edge of her antique Rocchetti sofa—a beautiful piece of furniture over 200 years old, made from faux fur and crafted in the shape of a cartoon bull—and looked critically at the hologram of her mermaid outfit rotating in the centre of the room.

          “What do you think, Mr R?”

          ”It is an exquisite piece of design engineering, Ma’am. The organ you see in the chest cavity can operate as a lung or a gill enabling you breathe as a human or to extract oxygen from the water. The circulatory system has been engineered to withstand different water pressures. The skeletal system is light and pliable and designed for speed and agility under the water. The eyes have been designed to ensure you will be able to correctly focus both above and under water. The intricate design of the ears means that you will be able to hear as a human above water or use sonar communication under water.”

          ”Yes, yes, most interesting, Mr R. But do you think my bum looks fat in that tail?”

          ”Not at all, Ma’am. Your figure is beautifully proportioned and the tail only accentuates your womanly curves.”

          ”I think that shade of pink is much better. What do you think, Mr R?”

          ”The carmine pink suits the undertones of your skin most favourably, ma’am. It is preferable to the cerise pink you chose earlier. Although that was an excellent choice too, of course”.

          ”Wonderful! Print it out then, Mr R. And print out your Octopus suit at the same time. I feel an unusual emotion which may even be excitement. Hawaii, here we come”

          #3208

          While she was adjusting her bikini over her fake boobs, Maurana Banana felt a sudden pang of panic. Nothing that could be lipsynched away with bursting into some Name Game song

          Everything was here, yet she didn’t feel fleshed out enough. She wasn’t talking about gaining some padding, she had plenty enough of that, but more about depth and character. At times, she even felt highly suggestible.

          The sound of the waves crashing down the rugged black volcanic stones under the white sand was soothing. The others’ shrills of delight could be heard miles away, they were hoping for a dolphins’ pod sighting and had even abandoned the Goochi platform shoes to be more comfortable.

          Sadie was very quiet, and at times felt almost like she was about to say hello and run out of conversation. However, she told something that had struck the Reggie inside the Maurana’s persona. That she should act on her highest excitement, and that there was no more to life than that.
          Easy enough when in drags, but when out of the wigs, make-up and fake eyelashes and acrylic nails, it was like being an out-of-water dolphin. Nothing but a big fat stranded sardine without appeal, just good for an extra pouring of olive oil.

          Before being a drag queen, Reginald worked a few jobs since a young age, mostly deliveries. The last one he got was more stable, a job as a security guy. He’d almost blundered at the interview, he laughed at it now, when he’d forgotten to remove the Gothic styled nails from the night. Instead of hiding them and look stupid, he had the good sense to invent those crazy stories like the ones he would tell his teacher when he forgot some homework deadline.
          Security was better than delivery, there was no denying. Being in a position were people were not quite paying attention to you, but still eyeing you from the corner, as if you could do something vicious or bully them out of the building. She liked that.
          There was always excitement as there were plenty of crazy people each day to be escorted out, so following excitement wasn’t difficult. Following yours was more of a catch.

          She’d joined the drag contest to win her own highest excitement. She already got points for being the first pick-up of the jury before Consuela and Terry, and also for being the one to snatch the key.

          She put the last touch of green on her eyelids with a hand flourish. She was perfect. For now, that was something to get excited about.

          #3172

          Geoffroy didn’t realize at first. Then something struck him. That people didn’t pay attention to him was of course a bit curious. Then evidences of something witchy became bright as day, such as the fact that he had no consistency and could walk though stone walls, or that he could see things as soon as he thought about them.
          All of that was disorienting, even for an acrobat used to twists and turns, and he had to reign himself back from jumping from here to there, in all matters of attention that he would like.
          For one, he would have loved to drag his companions out of their own slumber, but they seemed under a powerful spell.
          Some sudden doubt crept along, that he was all but dead — seeing his body lying on the floor was a shock. But then he realized he was still breathing and smiling too. And all the things he could witness with the three transvestites was surprising enough for him to know it could not just be a product of his fertile mind… Or was it? He dismissed the thought before it could take hold.

          He heard the strange lady talk about ferrets, and became curious. She had a not quite French accent when she’d briefly talked to him, but now, he could almost see her thoughts, without a filter, and they looked dazzling with tinges of the most marvelous green.
          He wondered if she was talking about the Imperial Russian Ballet troupe who was invited by the Queen for the avant-première of tonight’s show.
          And sure enough, as soon as the though happened long enough in his head, the scenery whirled around and he popped right in front of the dancers

          #3134

          They did only realize they got out of the tunnel when the dimmed blue lights faded completely. It was almost pitch black apart from a few braziers in a narrowing vaulted tunnel paved in the manner of a future metro line.
          The passengers had noticed the transition from the smooth gliding gait of the zebras to the clopping of the hooves on the cobblestones. Sadie peaked outside of the carriage
          “Have we arrived? Where are we?”
          “Rightly so, darling. We’re under the grotto. Technically, it’s a chapel now. I did some adjustments underground.”
          “Mmm…” Sadie nodded indecisively. She couldn’t find the least rude way to nod without letting her thinking it was utter rubbish show through. So she kept quiet for a moment and even refrained rolling her eyes. “So, we’re….?”
          “We’re at the North Wing of the Palace, darling. It’s just nearby the Royal Opera House of the Palace, where your show will be held tonight, your e-flapper should have told you that. Don’t mind the construction work, it will give a steampunk feel to your show before it’s even invented.”
          “Of course.” she said evenly. “The North Wing. Well, we all in need of sleep and refreshing before tonight’s show, so…?” trying to worm out meaningful words from Sanso seemed a futile attempt.
          “Fancy that, darling, I have another delicate extraction of time stranders to go to,” checking a greasy paper from his shirt pocket,… “in last century or so, I can’t afford to be late. Let me help you lots out of here, leave it to Chair to take back those zebras to the Royal zoo and deliver that barrel of fine champagne, and you’re on your own.”

          Before Sadie could tell the word rude, Sanso had folded the carriage back unto itself, pocketed it and disappeared in a wallmhole —leaving only beside herself, the mute Chair on top of a barrel of vintage champagne, four exhausted and pawing zebras, and three sleep-deprieved disheveled divas.

          At least, the secrete cave of a Chapel is not overly conspicuous she said, trying to cheer herself up, remembering her training that light would prevail.

          #3127

          They arrived to the tunnel, it was almost dawn. Sanso spotted a ghostly flicker near the entrance. The cave network was guarded by a kind of protective spirits who checked your mission order so they could establish the right connection between the way in and the way out.
          Sanso felt a twinge of irritation as he recognized the ghostly figure.

          “Rifraf”, said Sanso as affable as he could manage.

          “Stop”, said Rifraf with a tone cold enough to freeze your spine. “You know the procedure”, he added with his hand stretched in front of him.

          Sanso looked into his rough leather bag to find the mission order. He could swear that the objects and papers had moved on their own while he wasn’t looking. It was a mess. He looked carefully at the paper he found and handed it to the guard. Rifraf seemed to have slowed his movement on purpose. He looked at the document. He looked at it again, looked at Sanso briefly, and at the document again.

          “This document is incomplete, you can’t pass”, said the spirit.

          Sanso looked at the mission order and realized that he had handed the copy. The original had two curly fleurons on the top and on the bottom. That’s why he didn’t like this one, he was a bit too rigid about the protocole.
          Where was this … document ? Sanso looked in his bag frantically as Rifraf was beginning to disappear. Here it was. “Hold on”, he said to the ghost. he checked quicky if there was no other typo or missing element. Everything was there. He just hoped Rifraf would say nothing about the grease stains.

          The guard snorted and nodded, as if reluctantly. He waved his hand and blue torches began to light up, showing the way.

          “Follow the blue lights”, said Rifraf and he disappeared.

          Sanso felt the warmth flowing back in his bones. When Sadie looked out the window, he was feeling much better. “What is taking so long ?”, she asked with a frown.
          “Administration”, he said with a grin.

          She answered with an eye-roll and her head disappeared in the coach. The sun was rising.

          #3117

          It was only mere minutes before a clunky coach drawn by a motley quartet of zebras arrived at the spot.
          “Hello darling,” the dashing coachman greeted Sadie while the footman was already busy ruffling around checking for any pieces of luggage to take.

          Sadie raised a concerned eyebrow.
          “Mr Deverte?”
          “Call me Sanso, darling, everybody does. You should get your drag queens here quickly, so we can depart without delay. The road is long and bumpy till Versailles, there is a promise of snow, and I got word you’re on a clock. Tally-ho!”

          For a moment, Sadie wondered if the assignment wasn’t indeed a punishment to atone for her preternatural goodness and beauty.

          #3077
          Jib
          Participant

            “I’m stunning tonight, bitches! All eyes will be on me gorgeous silhouette, I bet you my fucking dick! No doubt I will be the chosen one.”

            “Stop dreaming Maurana Banana, you silly bitch. They’ll just be wondering what’s that motherfucker meringue wig doing on that fat lipped purple head of yours.
            And then they’ll see my outstanding new green lime dress and they’ll choose me ! That’s my turn tonight, bitch!”

            “Of course, bitch! They’ll think you’re a sardine and they’ll pick you for the barbecue. Behold, Terry Bubble, Queen of Sardinia!”, said Consuela Winny, the bearded lady in drags.

            The green queen gaped speechless, and for a moment the image of a giant sardine popped into Maurana’s mind. She burst into laughter, quickly followed by Winny. It was an exaggerated laugh which bore young male tones. The three friends were participating into the most famous annual competition in Marseille. Linda Pol’s Drag Race would determine the best drags to be part of the Screaming Queens.

            #3073
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Of course she was keen to visit the “New Stonehenge”, as it was being penned in social media, but first she must sort this damned parcel mix-up. Said parcel was large, flat, wrapped in brown paper and addressed to a Mr or Mrs Chuen. Flove suspected it contained a family photo. Why she was wandering around Hastings with the parcel, or the exact nature of the mix-up, was unclear to her. Let alone something she could explain coherently to anyone else. Yet there she was, waiting in line at the Post Office with this blessed parcel. Her frustration may have made her a tad impatient with the lady who served her. “I am fed up with the Post Office getting things wrong. I am doing this for the good of mankind” she announced fervently.

              #3072
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                You may well ask how a large and solid standing stone broke in two. (The same stone, coincidentally, that fell over a couple of days ago). There is no mystery here, or supernatural phenomena, no extreme weather event or geological catastrophe. The stone was merely thrown over a fence, because the person throwing it attached no particular importance or significance to it; to him, it was “just another rock”. The person to whom the stone had importance and significance quickly decided there was an important significance to the stone splitting into two incident, although she had not yet deciphered what it was. The idea of “nothing being cast in stone” held considerable appeal, as did the simple idea of a stone circle relocating. It was unusual, unexpected, magical even ~ although not impossible, not often considered as a possibility, and rarely if ever considered as an idea worth pursuing. Perhaps that was because there was a strong belief of certain places in space having intrinsic related values, even if those values were not clear. Values based on the assumption that anything that has been in place for a very long time must be there for good reasons that we may not understand, but that we should respect them and revere them notwithstandingstone.

                #3071
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Stonehenge had moved. Standing stone circles don’t usually move, but this one did. For the reason that nothing is cast in stone, I suppose. Not quite sure yet where to reposition it. There are four standing stones, now, and not five. Or you could say there are now six instead of five, but two are quite short now. After the branch pruning days (some pruned by the wind and some pruned by chainsaw) (when is a fig branch not a fig? when it’s a prune), today was a digging and planting day in the less shady garden. A previously unusable area was now liberated from permanent shade, and a particularly good crop of seedlings meant that it was immediately usable. Hence, the unceremonious removal of the ceremonial stones. The stone circle was now a pile of stones, a stone heap without a plan ~ but with endless possibilities.

                  #3051
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Recovering herself majestically, Tina put on her headphones and played her isotronic creativity tone in order to contribute (and the term “contribute” is used loosely) to the discussion (also used loosely) at hand.

                    Tina sat and waited for inspiration. It soon became clear that inspiration had taken a vacation. “Without even sending any casebook notes for perusal. Selfish Inspiration!” thought Tina petulantly.

                    Inspiration, telepathically picking up on the Tina’s thoughts, smiled knowingly to herself. Winter, to all intents and purposes, had already arrived, and yet the day was still and rather warm. Picking a particularly vibrant yellow daisy she noticed growing wild among the stones on the side of the path she skipped her way back to the hotel for breakfast.

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