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  • Becky felt revitalized somewhat after breakfast, and decided to go for a walk. Sean was still snoring and mumbling in bed, so she pulled some clothes out of the closet quickly and climbed into them quietly, unable to see clearly in the dark. If the pile of wedding gifts on the dining room table hadn’t attracted her ... · ID #724 (continued)
    (next in 19h 03min…)

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  • #612

    It’d been two hexades that the Abbot Hrih Chokyam Lin’potshee had been laying in bed in poor condition.
    At first, he had wanted to be as strong as he had always been towards hardships, but he’d finally admitted that quelching the pain wasn’t doing any good to him. So he had agreed to be taken care of by a young monk, and to lay in bed as long as was necessary.
    He knew that he was very likely not to get out of that bed but with his body covered by a white sheet, nevertheless, the thought was still something distant. The pain in his body was making him so present to himself that the only thing that was still blatant was that he was.
    More than the body, it was all his faith that was shaken. He had thought he would leave this life without mess, without pain, probably very discreetly in his sleep… But now, his head was wincing at every noise, even the nature’s sounds that once felt like music to his ears, he was eschewing them now as much as he could. His very skin was hot and couldn’t bear even the soft contact of the bedsheets.
    What was the point of all of this? He had never doubted that everything had its purpose, but now, he was doubting…
    He was even trying to find some reasonable reasons for what was happening, he who never trusted in reasonable reasons in the first place. Perhaps that was because of his seating under the chilly air and the warm sun in front of the Meditation Wall, reading for all of the poems that had been written by the monks who had dared to write. Perhaps he had “taken cold”, whatever that means…
    “Perhaps not” the voice kept saying softly in his head.

    Now, his whole succession was feeling like a moot point. After all, he was not even capable of saving himself from anything, then how could what he created make the slightest difference? These were all like an extension of his body, bound to decay and come back to Earths.

    Not so many monks had dared write upon the Wall about their highest truth. A few jokesters had begun at first, helping the others to participate.
    One in particular had had Hrih laugh for quite a while.

    A toad is a toad
    Unless kissed
    Endless Bliss

    Then a dozen of others had flourished upon the wall, until Aum Geong decided to write his own. He’d not wanted to go first, to allow the others to express without the burden of comparison, and also to have some more time to write something deep and thoughtful. But that profusion of nonsense between some occasional pearls of wisdom made him write his own.

    Unattainable is the Truth
    For in the Dust of things
    All in our View is bleak

    Doing Wrong we forswear
    For Dust to be lifted
    And Wisdom we seek

    In the deed of the Elders
    And the Faith in the Community
    Light and Trust bespeak

    All the monks had been quite impressed, but Hrih had not been entirely satisfied by it… To be honest, he even completely disagreed with it.
    Now, however, stuck in this bed, the poem was playing in his head and suggesting that the Worlds were something terrible that he had not yet understood, or be willing to avoid seeing. Perhaps Aum Geong was wiser than he was.
    Perhaps all that Hrih had put as foundational to his life had all been Dust…
    “There is no Dust, and you know that” the voice whispered softly.

    Now that he is about to die, what difference will it make anyway…
    He reach out for a bowl of water, and almost let it fall, as the weight of it surprised him. He was becoming so weak… He never had been so self-conscious in many many many years.

    After he had propped himself up to drink a few burning swallows of the lukewarm water, he noticed something folded on his bedside, that had been put under the bowl… Young Franiel had been the one attending him with Jog Lam, so it must have been the doing of one of them. He intuited that was Franiel.

    As he read the stanzas, tears were in his eyes…

    I am the driftwood
    the wave carried me
    I was buried in sand

    I am the flower
    the butterfly touched me
    I fell in love

    I am the raindrop
    the cloud released me
    I became the ocean

    The Young monk had probably not dared write it on the Wall, especially after most of the monks’ vocal appreciations of Aum Geong’s poem…
    “Perhaps not” the voice again spoke.
    Another reason for it formed into Hrih’s mind. Franiel perhaps didn’t feel ready for such responsibilities and his role and fulfillment in this community was not form rules nor to continue it.
    It was more to inspire them, and perhaps to start his own discoveries.

    Hrih wrote a note behind the paper. He wanted to leave something for Franiel, for him to keep faith in his coming adventures during these coming times of change.
    After a deep breath, he took another paper that was with him for already such a long time, wrote down some words, and signed it, the aura of his hand burning a glyph that was his signature in the paper. He then called for Jog Lam.

    — Jog Lam, my friend…
    — Elder?
    — I’m dying…
    — I know Elder
    — Let me continue. (Jog Lam nodded)
    First, will you give that paper to Young Franiel after the cremation ceremonies. (Jog Lam nodded again)
    Second, I want you to relay that I have made my decision, and that Aum Geog will succeed me (Jog Lam’s surprise was noticeable in his eye). He is, to date, the most adequate successor for this monastery.
    — I will do as you want.
    — Thank you my friend.
    — Elder…
    — Farewell, my friend, I am always with you.

    When Jog Lam stoically left the room, Hrih Chokyam laid down, his eyes on the ceiling. His body was so weak that all he could do was to project behind his closed eyelids and see the starry sky, even if he would have wanted something different for his death. He would have loved something like a nap in a sunlit meadow with a little singing brook.
    But seeing the actual World was something even more precious to him. The barren mountains of the icy season, the clear unclouded sky. His mind was so full of energy that his body lacked.

    With a deep feeling of gratitude for his body, he bid it farewell.

    #605

    Sam decided to organize a party in a slightly sidewayed region of RA1. He was busy setting the inner landscape, the traps and the different attractions…
    He asked Becky if she could take care of the dream or meditation triggers like the famous yurt of Rafaela. They’ll need lots of them to offer entrances to their friends .

    Sam just sent a message to Al and Tina so they could do whatever they wanted to add some fun or drama to this little party.

    #604
    Jib
    Participant

      Yann stroke Arona, lost in his thoughts. He’d spent the last few days with Yurick at Gustav’s place. He’d met Gustav a few days ago, when Yurick came to Paris with him. Gustav was a very sympathetic and fun fellow, his energy felt very soft to Yann and quite sensitive though he could appear a bit rough to others. Gustav was kind enough to let Yann sleep one night at his house when he was still there, before his holidays with his parents before Christmas and friends after Christmas. It was the occasion to eventually be with Yurick.

      The life together was a bit different from what he would have normally expected… before. Now it was just a new experience, the interaction was different, and the configuration of energy could be a bit tricky.

      Yann had noticed that in his perception even if an aspect of his attention was focused on the physical place and that he was physically seeing other individuals and objects in the official room, his main attention was elsewhere… he was beginning to be able to let more of this periphery to bleedthrough in his official reality, and he was well aware that the interactions weren’t always what they appeared to be. He first had the reflex to filter it through his usual associations and what he knew of this reality… but often enough he had that twinge about it like it wasn’t really fitting… it wasn’t fitting at all, he was trying to mold it into another shape, a familiar and distorted shape, so to speak. Ok, that was acceptable, and most of the time his attention and his movement was toward Yurick’s energy.

      Yurick was creating some weird stuffs in with his mouth… some itching and uncomfortable pain… it was a bit weird because of the familiar associations with it… associations with pain, illness, preoccupations, caring, even self worth… but most of all it was showing Yann about the automatic movement “outside” of self, and not being present in what himself was doing.

      Yann had noticed that most of the time when he was in what he was doing there was that warm expansion feeling in his belly… but still there was that location association with it… and the association that Yurick was outside and the room was outside and then at times it was fading and there was not much separation within energy.

      And he just noticed that no separation didn’t necessarily mean continuity :-?

      Ok, again this Owl music of the Harry Potter series… the “scum of the universe” connection was a bit hidden by this music now, but it was still in his periphery. And something he wanted to explore. A feeling of space travel and of mercenaries… that reminded him of the video games he was playing when he was a kid. There was always a time when he was fascinated by the “bad guys”, the pirates. Haha, maybe a pie rat would do as a dessert.

      He would soon come back “home”. He had that DVD of the pilots of a series about space travels that he liked a lot… Yurick had told him about it 2 days ago, he had never seen it.

      #603
      Jib
      Participant

        Sam was feeling like a human being shaped balloon… not in rubber, but more in some waterproof material… with holes in his hands and his feet…
        It was like him as essence was blowing the air into the puppet to give it more or less consistency, more or less presence.
        At times his action would not be on the blowing into the bodily structure but on the looking of its canvas, its blueprint… the puppet would appear slack or flabby.
        At times his action would be the blowing into the structure, and how he would insufflate the air into the structure, how he would direct it through the canvas would create different actions, different movements of this energy pattern, some wavy, some more rigid, and some pulsing.

        He currently felt he was trying to block the air from coming out of the puppet clothing… blocking the flow of the attention, of the energy into something absolute… he felt he was doing that to understand what he could create in doing it. It was not a continuous action and not something he wanted to make last much longer. Only the understanding of the movement of the air through his body was interesting him.

        He just breathed in and out and decided to do something different. He had what he wanted of it now.

        There was a click in his right ear, and he could feel his attention and his energy movement beginning to shift. :recycle:

        #588
        Jib
        Participant

          Georges and Salome’s journal

          From Georges’ account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

          It’s our first attempt to use the Jorid to move through dimensions. Well the trip was worth it. I enjoyed it tremendously. I felt so elastic and inside-outed… :))
          We had already gone through the Jorid to distant locations of our own dimension, but it’s slightly different. The adjustments of the encoding part of the physical manifestation is but one part of it.

          Our joint focus had led us to a particularly interesting dimension. I know I have already many focuses in it as Salome has too. Maybe it was what created the draw to this dimension. We just didn’t choose to focus at the same time and space… it was our choice. We are so strongly connected that it is not important. We can reach each other awarenesses at will and communicate so fully at any moment.
          It seemed to me that I already had a comprehension of the structure of this dimension. I’m not aware yet of when or how I did that but I understood that Salome wanted to take time, though time is not really relevant to describe the process of assimilation she was undergoing.

          I felt drawn to the Duane. I was feeling some strong resonance in the vibrations of the people of this “planet”, but it was not really a planet like our planet Earth in our dimension. I still don’t understand fully how it is created, but the shape is quite flexible, so to speak. I had chosen to manifest different qualities, relevant to my current exploration which could be translated as physical strength and sharp intellect, and a strong persuasive energy.

          Physically focused I could feel Salome in the RA2 of this dimension where a part of my attention was continuously focused. She already had made contact with different beings of the Duane in their dreams, preparing my coming so to speak :)) but her main focus of attention was directed to the Murtuane where I had hidden a few surprises for her. I’m sure she will appreciate the attention ;))

          #584

          Malika jotted down some notes on the chat window, depicting the images as they whizzed into her mind like the pages of a multicoloured flip-book

          “As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
          They held in their hands objects that projected sounds…

          :fleuron:

          As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
          They held in their hands objects that projected sounds, and their echoes in the waters were projecting harmonious symphonies that were carried miles across the waters.

          How odd that the sounds where so similar to the ones she had always known. But they were different, rasher, suffused of a violent nature which was so alien to the world she was coming from. It all was perplexing, and almost deafening to her. Her eyes getting slowly accustomed to the light could not yet perceive that there was no longer the life she’d felt on the strange floating body, but she knew it assuredly even without seeing it.

          She plunged back into the waters, to reattain the gliding peace and softness that she had been missing so much already, even though she had been out of it for barely a few moments.

          Where was the life she had felt… Gone in the strange world of the surface? She knew so little of that world, that she imagined that all their creatures could swim as easily in the airs as she could do in the waters. Was there a bottom to their environment?
          All of these questions were erupting and expanding in her mind, when a sudden feeling got her forthwith.

          She could feel him. Sinking slowly… and she could feel his pain inside, something else that was alien to her… He was so fascinating…
          She swam fleetly to where he was.
          She turned in small rounds around him, following closely his descent, not daring to touch him.
          So alien, yet so beautiful.

          She could communicate with him, as he was in something close to a deep slumber, and allowing for that exchange to happen. It was a breach of the rules, she knew.
          She had been told not to interfere with things from the surface, yet she was interfering already, and she’d always been doing it in a sense… At what point did that breach leapt from her imagination to reality? She couldn’t say…

          The light was casting a yellow radiance in the blue waters. A feeling of warmth and comfort surrounding them.
          He was telling her he was dying, yet he was comfortable. Time meant nothing…
          She conveyed to him that she could help him, bring him back to his floating station, where he could spring back into his world… She wanted to share so many things with him…

          #581

          Aglaë had been reluctantly coming back to the games of her sisters, when Thalÿs, the eldest had come back from her trip.
          She’d had trouble with one of her dolphins who had fallen ill, and had been seeking advice from one of the healers in another distant underwater city.

          Eufrosÿn, her other sister was listening to her account, and was amazed at the similarities between her sister’s depiction and her own recent dream imageries. But Aglaë, who was usually very fond of such bizarre coincidences, barely did more than a few silent nods.

          Her mind was halfway here, and halfway there, with the mysterious life she had felt on the surface…
          She wanted to come back, and a sudden impulse made her leave her sisters without an explanation and rush to her spot of observation.

          #576

          He’d been considering disengagement today… not sure if it was what he really wanted. But the thought was coming at times. He wasn’t sure that it wasn’t triggered by some kind of desperation or sadness, an automatic response of protection or to stop the suffering.

          Well he was just considering. He hadn’t made his choice yet.

          #574
          Jib
          Participant

            Despite his gloomy mood, Yann was quite aware that the idea of Yurick was paralleling his own desire to make his dreams public… It’d been several days now that he was thinking more and more to write them on his different web supports… but he hadn’t really created the time or the inspiration to do so.

            Yann was feeling a bit forced since a few days… he couldn’t say or pinpoint the “origin”, though you could say HE was the origin, he wasn’t ready to accept this answer yet :)) he wanted to enjoy his victim feeling for a few days… Still it wasn’t very satisfying.

            Yann sighed.

            Well, all his life he really had understood others couldn’t give him the answers or tell him what to do, and still he had wanted to mimic them in their quests for a solution, their quest for happiness… he really realized that it wasn’t a natural movement to him. It had seemed at times that he could be aware of his desires, his direction… though today every action seemed like an effort, something you have to struggle for… well once again he got his own answer… he was struggling. It was already more flexible and smoother… his energy was feeling lighter, and he could se the other obstacles against which he was struggling.

            He sighed again, but it was more a release and a relaxation now.

            Well he had some dreams to note down.

            #569

            It had not been easy to convince his parents. His mother especially…
            As a matter of fact, he had failed to convince them at all, and Tomkin had to decide by himself whether he wanted to follow Badul and his crew in his quest for unknown mysteries.

            Tomkin had left a short written message for the Sharples, to tell them that they needn’t worry, and all would be fine.

            Badul had decided to split his crew in two, having Austor in charge of the boats while he would go with a handful of trusted men by land.
            Apparently, the young boy was aware of one portal which was close to their current location. This one was not part of the main network and was operating unknowingly to the officials. Its size was small, and travels were regulated by a local governor who used it for his clandestine business.
            It was located deeper inside the lands of Golfindely, and the mountainous area of highlands planted with luxuriant trees made its access difficult.

            Despite the boy’s initial reluctance at leading them to this place, Badul was determined to go, and very quickly Tomkin was excited at the opportunity to finally travel as he always had wanted to. It wouldn’t be by sea for now, but as Captain Bone said, every journey starts with one step.

            #1980

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              THE WIDE ones caught maevel AS SHE WAS beginning A game. HER sisters, A boy, HER self AND HER mummy WERE GOING ON A trip. THE bag LADY heard, BUT DIDN’T understand. Night ON THE island CAME, AND sam, quintin, AND quickly yann AND THE BAG lady, moments within OPEINING THE door, A human real focus sort, WHO loved tomkin, WALKED IN.

              NO higher EVENT HAD happened; perhaps IT looked LIKE action, beautiful TO himself, able TO SEE sanso’S mother, rather blond WITH dark ROOTS. AH, words ARE wanted, FOR AN ass SO true TO BEcome aware SO easily. I needed TO read love INTO whatever YOU MAY BE thinking, AS I GO wandering IN THE lemonS, THINKING OUTSIDE THE box.

              Warm SUN, LET’S sleep; let’S meEt AND watch important water IMAGERY. Nothing IS lost, IT’S calling US.

              Cool session! :yahoo_eyelashes:

              IT’S A fine LINE BETWEEN already focused dragons THIS year. IT’S ALL happening NOW; I wonder IF finding tracy created UNtold CLUES.:cluebox: :yahoo_doh:

              WE knew THE great blue GUY WAS getting mean, changing OUR cave SO often AND SO weird .

              NOTHING IS EVER forgotten :yahoo_skull:

              #1976

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Worry … dark, floating
                often deep.
                Moon seems noticed
                calling Armelle
                apparently loved, understood
                slowly wandering, beautiful … follow.
                Wanted change!
                Quiet, opened, wondering.
                Happening became important,
                easily smiled, dancing, random
                Looking. Seeing.

                :fleuron:

                Book started change, needed funny truth

                #556
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Chris! you look terrible! Nurse Bellamy, momentarily startled by Dr Bronklehampton’s unkempt appearance, lapsed into first name basis. Dr Bronklehampton always insisted that a certain level of protocol be observed, except in their more intimate moments of course.

                  But today he did not even seem to notice her small indiscretion. Nurse Bellamy was perplexed.

                  I’ll bring you a nice glass of warm coconut milk, and you’ll be right as rain, she said hopefully. As she turned to go a bandaged figure propped up against the wall caught her eye. The apparition was made even more surreal by the addition of a bright yellow wig on it’s head. She screamed, clutching her hand to her bosom.

                  Oh my God!, what is it! she exclaimed in startled surprise.

                  A Mummy of course, what does it look like? answered Dr Bronklehamptom in a listless voice.

                  :fleuron:

                  Chris Bronklehampton stared at the Mummy, and wondered how things could have gone so horribly wrong. All he had ever wanted was to do something good for mankind. Well that isn’t quite true, Chris is it, hmmm really? Weren’t you after a bit of fame and fortune as well?

                  You won’t get away with this, you know, said the Mummy.

                  #544
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “Sand! I may have got the riddle, thought Sanso, but I didn’t get the POINT of the riddle being there in the first place!”

                    Becky had been flicking through the wads of typed pages as she lay on the sofa, sipping hot lemon and honey, and sneezing. The sneezing! Jeeze, the sneezing had been going on for days. What with all the sneezing and sleeping, she felt more blinked out than blinked in lately.

                    Sand, sand sand…… Hhmmm, Becky was wondering why the sand syncs were coming in again. She blew her nose, and picked up another wad of typewritten pages, opening at random.

                    “Illi was bored with the deserted island and the sand dragons. She wanted some action, some surprises, some…..well, some life!”

                    Wow, I’d forgotten all about Illi, thought Becky. She imagined the calm quiet beach, Illi’s island get-away. Well, before she’d conjured up the sand dragons it was quiet, anyway. Becky thumbed through the next pile of papers.

                    “Arona pulled out a well worn map from her bag. The map had been a gift from a traveling wizard who visited the village a few years ago. Arona had given him food and shelter and he repaid her kindness with the map.”

                    Well, I’ll bet that’s a clue, thought Becky drowsily, But I can’t be bothered to work it out now.

                    The trouble is, Becky muttered to herself, When I start this random reading thing I just can’t stop, it’s like an addiction. She sighed and opened again at random:

                    “The hydroplane was flying over the “Sarcastic Sea” in the Bermuda Triangle. Anita was not afraid, her parents had told her about the triangle and the different legends of people disappearing or reappearing there….”

                    #514
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Arona curled up in front of the fire with little Yikesy. Vincentius was telling Yikesy one of his intriguing and colourful tales of far away, imaginary worlds …. there seemed to be men with toads and a girl who liked to dance and a strange blue bull creature that everyone wanted to get their hands on. To be quite honest, Arona couldn’t really follow it, but she loved the sound of Vincentius’ soothing voice. She sighed happily, it was so nice to be back.

                      #507

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      #498

                      some writing by Twilight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      #496

                      The hydroplane was flying over the “Sarcastic Sea” in the Bermuda Triangle. Anita was not afraid, her parents had told her about the triangle and the different legends of people disappearing or reappearing there, but instead of being afraid she was a bit excited. She didn’t tell her parents though because it was not officially acceptable, at least she could understand that. Her only friends was a lynx and a rabbit coming often to visit her and play with her. She could see them since the beginning, and at times there were an owl and a goat coming along with them. Her parents wouldn’t believe such thing, but she was 5 and it was acceptable.

                      They had told her the trip will be OK. There will be some surprising event of which they hadn’t wanted to tell her. It was a surprise of sort, and they told her she will create it in the right time. Nothing to fear, because they would be with her. Anita trusted them with her life, they were always kind and fun. And the rabbit had at times the energy of a panda, and she was quite fond of panda too. She had this secret desire to be a panda herself ;))

                      She closed her eyes, how would that surprise be manifested? If she was the one creating it, could she know in advance? But it would not be a surprise anymore… and she loved surprises :) so she won’t try. She just let her inner world open and continued her discussion with her friends. She noticed a yellow butterfly approaching, he was bright and quite funny, flying around like that. It was flying around her head and coming back and forth… and then suddenly kissed her on her nose, she giggled of pleasure, it was so funny, their friends were playing around her in her inner landscape, and all was wonderful.

                      :fleuron:

                      Aaron was trying to call the control tower of their destination… it’s been a few minutes since the last contact and he was beginning to worry. No need to worry, he thought, though he couldn’t really trust it. He didn’t want to make his wife and his daughter worry for that. It was planned to be a beautiful trip from Miami to the New Lunacy Park in the Bermuda Triangle… an island created by men. And he had lost contact with them… :yahoo_nailbiting:

                      #494
                      Jib
                      Participant

                        The air was filled with anticipation. Phurt was feeling it for a few days and it was not the usual intuition stuff. It wasn’t conveyed by the silky threads or her web or of the other webs of the others like her… it was in the air, and it was very exciting.

                        All her sisters were excited also and it was mainly translating by a deep hunger. It was associated with the hunt. It felt like a new thrilling game of sort.

                        But now, all they could do was being patient ‘til the arrival of the new preys. It’s been so many seasons since the last ones came to their island.

                        :recycle: :weather-clear: :weather-few-clouds: :weather-overcast: :weather-showers: :weather-snow: :weather-storm: :recycle:

                        There was still a vibration in the air she couldn’t dissassociate from the main one, the exciting one. The main one was so intense that she even was doubting of the slight uncomfort of this weird one. She wanted to talk with the Elder Narani. She was the most sensitive of her kind, and the oldest also. She would surely know about this vibration.

                        But first she had to found a gift :yahoo_cow: and wrap it with the finest silk she could create. She began slowly to move from her centered position on her web and a subtle mechanism in her bodyconsciousness began the process of generating that finery and the poison that wouldn’t kill her gift.

                        #490

                        Claudio was angry. He wanted revenge. Trembling with rage and hurt, he climbed the attic stairs. His great grandfathers trunk was shrouded in a thick layer of dust, but opened easily enough. Almost sprang open before he touched it, Claudio thought uneasily.

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