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  • #921

    It had been a week now. Georges had fully taken his role as Shu-Lom, the eleventh Gate in the Council of the Guardians. His mergence with the actual focus of Blöhmul was fading out ; the transition had been smooth, unnoticed by most of the Guardians, even his closest friends. Georges was careful not to display any unusual change in Shu-Lom’s attitude, though some of them were showing signs of suspicion, especially… his own focus, Sinadron who was the most susceptible to be aware of the difference. Georges had been avoiding him since his arrival, but he would eventually have to face him for one of the rituals soon to begin.
    Of the eleventh other Guardians, only 2 were considering him as a friend, Doh’Maar and Vogel. Most of the others were ignoring him during the sessions and Sinadron were despising him. Well, technically he was despising Shu-Lom and the change would not make things go easier between the 2 of them as the energy of their 2 focuses were sort of repulsing each other.
    Following Shu-Lom’s habits, he was heading to the public baths, but contrary to him, he was going during daylight. He needed some answers. He had been feeling strong tensions between the Gates, and there were also underlying feeling of discontentment and anger among the other Guardians. For the first time in their history, unknown groups of their kind were attacking the other races and provoking them and generating feelings of fear, even amongst the Guardians.
    The man he was following would give him some of the answers. He would have to befriend him first though. Noraam had a smooth energy, and he would be easy to approach, especially in the dampness of the baths.

    Noraam was wearing an grey cape, attached on his shoulders with carved fibulae. His robe was short, above his knees, and rather dark. He was quite young by the standards of the Guardians and still fiery. Shu-Lom was young too, about the same age as Noraam, but he was quite pessimistic and self-effacing, and especially he wanted to leave, that he did, and Georges took his place.
    Georges suddenly felt a familiar energy, one that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. Salome… rather another focus of her essence. Hahaha, that was a surprise, and he almost lost track of what he was doing. Noraam was already taking the stairs up to the baths. Something about the energy of that focus was attractive, he still didn’t know who it was or what he/she(?) was doing here. Maybe just a projection. He didn’t have time to investigate. Heading to the stairs where Noraam was already being dematerialized and rematerialized to the first level, he heard a child’s voice.

    Can you help me?.. I know you can.

    What again, another distraction… he would be late to the baths and maybe loose the occasion to speak with the other Gate.

    Looking down at the origin of the voice, he was surprised to see a little girl, red hair and amber eyes. As he could see, she was blind, but as he could feel, she was quite capable of seeing things.

    Do I know you, little one? He had not been aware of this child in Shu-Lom’s memories, and he was wondering if he had missed something during his encounters with the original.

    You dreamt of me the other night, but you weren’t here yet.

    Her last words triggered a memory, of him carrying a naked little girl in his arms, protecting her in a way, and he was following a man in his dream, trying to keep track… in his dream, he was rushing and almost lost the child, following also Salome who had already taken the stairs… yes he was here in his dreams, the place and the stairs were the same… as was the child.

    What is your name little one? In my dream you were followed by an owl
    You can call me Ar’Meel.

    :fleuron:

    Sam thought he could write it somewhat differently. With his understanding of Georges’ abilities, he could well have split in two and followed Salome and stayed with the girl simultaneously and maybe even Noraam.
    A smile.
    He was feeling wobbly and wavy. A ripple effect?
    It seemed that there had been a strange recognition between his character and himself. It was like Georges was aware of Sam wanting to change what had happened… or was it a suggestion of Georges?

    #891
    AvatarJib
    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.

      #883
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Becky arrived at the cafe twenty minutes late, looking breathless and disheveled. Scanning the room with a wild eye, she spotted Tina engrossed in a magazine in a booth in the far corner. Flopping down on the leatherette seat, Becky ran her hands through her hair and said Holy Moly, Tina, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.

        BREATHE, replied Tina, in a deeply resonant voice, a trifly mischeivously, Becky thought. Breathe into YOU…..

        Oh bugger off Tina, Becky said affectionately. Thanks for coming at such short notice.

        Well, out with it then, Becks, what’s the panic this time? What fine pickle have you got yourself into now?

        Becky glanced surreptiously over her shoulder, and then leaning over the table whispered to Tina, Promise you won’t tell anyone? Not even Sam and Al?

        Tina frowned. Not even Sam and Al?

        Seeing Becky’s crumpled face, Tina quickly agreed, saying, Oh alright then, but what’s the big secret? Not that there ARE any secrets….

        Yes there bloody well ARE secrets Tina, and this is one of them! Promise not to tell ANYONE!

        Alright, alright! Calm down and spit it out, for Gawds sake! Tina said.

        Remember when I was in the park? In that tarty nun outfit? Becky continued, in a loud whisper.

        How could I forget?

        Well, something happened! In the bushes, with this guy, a guy from the future, a time traveller.

        Tina raised one eyebrow in disbelief.

        It’s no good looking at me like that Tina, I’m telling you it happened. And what’s more, I’m pregnant, and he’s the father.

        Tina’s mouth fell open in surprise, and then she said, You TART! You haven’t been married a week! You haven’t even been on your blimmen honeymoon yet!

        Well, actually, replied Becky huffily, Don’t you think it’s kind of cool?

        What happened then, Becky, do tell! Tina was intrigued.

        And Becky proceeded to tell Tina all about it, first entreating her again not to tell anyone.

        #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…

        #829
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Ella Marie Tindale was one of the many people reported missing after the floods. Her body was never found and her husband Arthur intuitively felt that she was still alive, although he had said little to the police. They hadn’t connected the mummy’s disappearance to his wifes disappearance, but Arthur had his suspicions.

          One night a few weeks previously, Arthur heard Ella Marie talking in her sleep. She often mumbled aloud, that was nothing out of the ordinary, but Arthur had had a nasty jolt when he read about the theft of the mummy, and recalled that Ella had been talking to a mummy in her sleep. He couldn’t imagine why Ella would steal a mummy, let alone walk out on their marriage in the middle of a flood, of all things, but then, Ella had always been strange.

          Arthur Tindale sighed. He missed his wife.

          #2023

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            FULL STEAM AHEAD towards THE ISLE OF fry! THE FERRY, full TO BURSTING, felt LIKE THE FUN HAD started. THINGS began GOING TO plan (following A FEW STERN looks OFF Bea ) AND THE postBOX WAS FULL. CareFULLY CHOSEN LIGHT AND dark symbolic QUESTIONS asked BY ALL, IT seems. EMO Yellow IS THIS YEARS BLACK. I googled IT. I kept GOING spaceY AMD smiled, clearLY waiting, although THIS week IS seeing CONNECTIONS multiply ON earth: let’S show THE dance WE knew AND OPEN THE door ……:yahoo_heehee:

            #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?

            #2020

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Suddenly THE room WAS FULL OF beetles, WHICH meant THREE times A week lying inside THE story, moving AROUND LIKE A fish. Random living DRIVING AN OLD car ALL OVER THE earth HAVING lots OF dreams OF blue, rather SIMILAR TO comments soon officeIALLY PUBLISHED….. telling hugE NONsense factS WHILST RUBBING white talking hands ALL OVER THE RABBITS, running AND sighed AS MY foot connected WITH A ROCK already taking years TO FORM INTO matter …..

              #2019

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                SITTING IN THE sun reading THE magic journal AFTER A walk, THE connection TO elikozoe AND CO WAS full IN MY MIND. I FELL Asleep quickly, must BE THE short NIGHTS ON earth. WOKE UP WITH A ParchED feeling AND felt LIKE A bride cleaning UP AFTER THE WEDDING. I noticed IT seemed LIKE A FASTliving week FOR THE sand aspects OF THE DRAGONS, SO I googled IT TO TRY AND sort IT OUT.

                #1760

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  More on pink, rats and passion fruits…

                  Just to complete those flovely syncs, here are some others:

                  • Yesterday I had the funniest dream about a big, hot pink, pet rat, which was wandering freely around (no way it could hide with such colours ahaha), and friendlily gnawing on my finger to show me he appreciated to be stroked… :yahoo_thinking:
                  • The night before, I found I couldn’t sleep and was thinking of the last of the two pomegranates we had bought last week, and felt an impulse to do some grenadine syrup with it. It’s full of little seeds, and the juice is very explosive like little pink pixies… And it looks very similar to the “passion fruit” Francie was talking about… Passion, Easter eggleton etc.
                  #799

                  Yurick (also now spelt as Ewrick) had had great fun this week-end, each time the capricious neighbours’ baby was crying to be pampered.
                  He had finally managed, thanks to a dream crash course in didjeridoo by Yann to master (well, almost) the impressive phallic abori-genius instrument. And it was turning each annoying cry into jolly peals of hysteric laughters and groovy vibes.

                  Now what else? Dory was having an epiphany recently with all her spam box, investigating the reason of a sudden accrual of increasing size of manhood messages…

                  So far so good…

                  #1731

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    <translating Jib’s energy>

                    Ahahah, it’s funny Franci!
                    Today and yesterday, I was in a training session and the guy kept saying stupid jokes and catch-phrases with 53 in them, like it’s the most natural thing to say! He also used a 23 once ;;)

                    And last week-end with Eric, we started to install a server. And to access a distant server, we use a program called PuTTY (pronounced sometimes “pooty”)… And the server kept rebooting on its own, so we ended pouting a bit :D

                    :yahoo_big_hug:

                    </translating Jib’s energy>

                    #1728

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Coinciding with Finn’s dream about the story, Yurick has got a dream this morning too, about Finn’s role in the story and they were exchanging about Finn’s new role as Captain Fraggart, a spaceship commander loosely based on Peter Quincy Taggart in the movie Galaxy Quest. Finn was having great fun with this character and his explorations of timespace travels, and discoveries of funny and nonsensical alien worlds.

                      More objectively, Yurick and Yann were having much less fun washing some “white square soft cushions” (sofa covers) this week, and tremendous fun growing plants of all sorts. Some were already sprouted up while others were patiently following their natural slow flow.

                      :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_big_hug: :yahoo_good_luck: No rush…

                      #1727

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Two beetle incidents this week (three if you count Beatleboy joining my Multiply blog) as well as Jib’s dream, so I googled beetles and found that they are connected to mummification.
                        :mummy:

                        Roger Fry’s uncle Joseph Storrs Fry was a member of the Bristol Fry family and head of the family chocolate firm of J. S. Fry & Sons.

                        He assumed control of the company in 1888 :cluebox:

                        (And for what it’s worth, the more damn things that get posted, the more sync’s we notice, share and appreciate) :yahoo_winking:

                        #762
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          The glowing light was showing a familiar face…

                          — So the boy is wavering?
                          — Yes. He is uncertain of the path… Does seem to have difficulty to trust his calling and take responsibilities being the owner of…
                          — He’ll do that. We can’t let him run away from it, nor afford the time of little vacationing. Did you secure the item?
                          — Yes. But you know it is worthless unless willingly handed over by the previous owner, right?
                          — Certainly. But I feel he’ll soon wish it back.
                          — I have words of cankerous corruption, endemic to where he was sent.
                          — Precisely.

                          :fleuron2: :fleuron2: :fleuron2:

                          Glasgow, Scotland, February 25 th 2068, Wrick Fundation

                          — So Cuthbert has refused?
                          — Yes. With his sister busy with her first-born, she can’t take on that much responsibility either.
                          — This is most regrettable. Lord Wrick’s will was perfectly clear though. Should none of the twins accept running his empire, all of its wealth would be used for humanitarian projects of the Fundation.

                          :fleuron:

                          A week before, Orkney Islands

                          Cuthbert, you must accept.
                          — Please, don’t wear yourself out Pope. Your body is weak.

                          Cuthbert’s face was drenched by emotion. Despite his small frame and his scrawny body, Lord Hilarion Wrick’s strong will was still present, as if etched on his face by all the years of reign. He wouldn’t take a “no” for answer, even now he was dying, just as he had never accepted it in his nearly 120 years of existence.

                          Cuthbert, listen to me. All this time you and your sister have spent at the Manor, all of the time I spent with you, this was not meant for naught, you know that. I was not some old decrepit rag of an elder waiting for his death cushioned between the laughters of his great-grand children. I noticed how you and your sister handled at an early age what I have been showing to you. The books,… the mummy even. This was only a test. What I had not found in Sean, nor in his son, I found out in you and your sister. Mind you, it took me that long, but it was worth the wait, and I know how to be patient.
                          — You’re repeating yourself Pope, I know this story. I am very grateful for all that you did, all the knowledge I owe to you, but I can’t accept. It’s just… too much! I just want to spend these moments with you.
                          — You just cannot whine throughout all of your existence Cuthbert. You chose to be born here, at this moment, in that family. There is no point in refusing what you have placed on your path.
                          — I’m not whining! It’s just that… I just want a normal life! answered Cuthbert vehemently
                          — Very well then. The face on the Lord was resolute despite his writhing in pain. You will have to see how much life is nothing meant to be normal. In the meantime, I would appreciate your letting me die alone.

                          #2009

                          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            IT’S BEEN A great looking week, MY mind HAS BEEN FILLED, MEETING flove IN THE MAGIC room TO DANCE AND SING. IT’S alright Yann TO give WITH A smile REINDEER STEW WITH addED mushrooms AND walk clear; BECAUSE nobody NEEDS TO nurse syncs, THEY NEVER GET lost ONCE opened. BE aware THAT nothing IS UNconnected.

                            #1718

                            In reply to: Synchronicity

                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              A sort of Foriegnors in Scotland Sync, although in reverse, as it were…..more like ‘Scots Abroad’…

                              My (Scottish) friend in Madrid invited me up for the weekend next month. Janet speaks Spancottish, a sort of Iberian-Celtic patois….(not to be confused with Spancrottishce, which is, of course, something completely different)

                              Is this a half sync, a reverse sync, or a reverse drop twisted three quarter sync?

                              #1900
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Not quite sure if there’s a story sync here yet, but there are a couple of Edward Gorey syncs: I read one of his books last week that I’d bought on impulse from the 2nd hand bookshop a few weeks ago, and a blog friend posted that today is his birthday. At Dale’s energy games last week I had a conversation with his pencil drawn characters…..Oh and half of the book of his that I read was written in Limericks…..

                                #754
                                ÉricÉric
                                Keymaster

                                  In the sparsely furnished room that V’ass had allocated him on the small building next to the clinic, Gabriele Ferrari, local Eastern Arch-Agent for the Confregation, was lying bare-chest on his bed. Despite the heat outside, the dark hair on his chest, and the lack of air-conditioning in the room, he was not sweating —the result of a total control on his chakras, a training the completion of which constituted the first requirement in accessing to the upper echelon of Arch-Agent.

                                  That Agent V was promising, he could tell. She was still a bit wayward and impulsive in her decisions, but spontaneity was an asset in their job. Mmm, better not get distracted now. Plan B was at stake.

                                  :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

                                  A few years before, Roma, Italy, at The Confregation Headquarters

                                  — I’m afraid this Dr B. isn’t very reliable. We got reports from the investigations you commissioned on his past, and upon further study of his Internet connections that we…
                                  — Spare me the details, Agent W.
                                  — Yes Principate, sorry Principate.
                                  — Thing is he has shown some mental instabilities, and early signs of schizophrenia.
                                  — Mmm… We both know schizophrenia is just a pathological sign of accessing other aspects of self… Nothing that can’t be dealt with with appropriate measures.
                                  — Yes Principate
                                  — Agent W, you know what is as stake, right?
                                  — Err…
                                  — Let me explain to you very clearly and simply Agent W. The artifact that we arranged for Dr B. to find and access the information sealed into it, this artifact, Agent W, is of utmost importance. That artifact is of course well encapsulated into the computer machinery we have provided the Doctor unbeknown to him… It is thus very important that you ensure the good progression of these works. But, despite his… de-ranged mind, as you may say… Dr B. is a brilliant scientist, and his works must proceed at all cost. If need be, send him a local agent to make sure of that.
                                  — Yes Principate.

                                  :fleuron2:

                                  Principate Haniel was quite concerned.
                                  It was a mere handful of years that thanks to the progress of computers they had managed to decipher parts of the encoded informations. The crystal skull that the Confregation had retrieved centuries ago from the greed and ignorance of Crusaders had waited long before they could start to be privy of its secrets. Centuries of patience would not be thwarted by mere negligence.
                                  Strangely the information they had deciphered were related to genetic encodings. The genome decryption of most of Earth species had not yet matched the pattern that was found inside the chunk of information until very recently, in an unexpected breed of spiders…

                                  Hoperfully Agent W would take the appropriate measures, Principate Haniel smiled ethereally. She would see to that.

                                  :fleuron2:

                                  Auckland, New Zealand, a week later

                                  — Agent V.
                                  — Agent W. Arch-Agent G.
                                  — We’ve be summoning you for some urgent matter that requires a local assistance. Arch-Agent G. here has advised that your service would be the most appropriate for this delicate matter. Are you aware of the dossier Operation Spider ?
                                  — Yes Agent W. Arch-Agent G has most kindly forwarded to me the details.
                                  — You’ll be leaving for the island at the end of the week, after you’ve been briefed on the most sensitive details.
                                  — Details Agent W? I thought everything was in the dossier?
                                  — There is a backup plan that has been devised from our best advised consultagents. Let’s call it Plan B for the moment. B as Bee-hive.
                                  — Very well Agent W.

                                  #751

                                  Why you supercilious little prout! said the Mummy

                                  Steady on Sasha, I don’t think I deserve that. I am a great believer in personal choice. You chose to be part of my experiments didn’t you? Did anyone force you to come here? His voice started to raise petulently. Are you a victim Sasha? Just because one small thing went wrong, an accident, no more and no less.

                                  If it wasn’t for these damn bandages I would laugh.

                                  Dr Bronkelhampton threw his hands in the air in vexation. Try and see the big picture Sasha dear. How many times have I told you now? My God we have been through this over and over again. Are you listening Sasha? All you can think about is yourself and your own petty little life. You are dead, you need to accept this and move on.

                                  Silence.

                                  Sasha? … Talk to me Sasha dear one.

                                  Dr Bronkelhampton? Nurse Bellamy tapped lightly on the office door, and entered cautiously. She could hear Chris talking to himself, again. It was nothing new, he spent hours closeted in his office lately. Though today she started in shocked surprise when she saw him, the yellow wig from the early days of the clinic was perched precariously on top of his bald head, garish make-up roughly applied, yet not hiding the dark blue circles under his blood-shot eyes.

                                  He glared at her. Can you not see I am with a client, Nurse Bellamy?

                                  She cast her eyes reflexively around the small office, although she did not need to look. It was bare save for a pot plant and that dreadful mummy propped up in the corner of the room.

                                  I am worried about you, Chris.

                                  He slammed his fist on the desk and turned away from her, staring moodily out the window.

                                  Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened with emotion, she struggled to hold back her tears as all the anxiety of the last week threatened to overwhelm her. She reminded herself of the words of her dear nursing tutor Edwardo Lemenox. Always remember your calling as a nurse. When the road seems difficult, take a deep breath and remind yourself you are perfect.

                                  She took a deep breath.

                                  I am sorry, I mean Dr Bronkelhampton … I need to inform you that three new clients are expected tomorrow …. and we have two here waiting for their treatment to start … and I can’t entertain them for much longer, they are getting restless. Veranassessee is up to no good, and, Nurse Bellamy pursed her lips for a moment in annoyance .. and now she has a gentleman friend here.

                                  Dr Bronkelhampton turned towards her quickly, the wig falling off in the process, She has a gentleman friend? Here on the island? Who?

                                  Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened even more as she remembered her encounter with the drop-dead gorgeous stranger, the way he had looked into her eyes as he asked where he might find Veranassessee, goodness, she had nearly dropped her coconuts.

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