Search Results for 'wondered'

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  • #438
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      I really should do something about this, I think this song may be a curse, thought the astute Arona, as the singing crone took Yikesy from her arms. Yet she found herself unwilling to move, a strange lethargy had overtaken her. Can I move? she wondered. She felt so strange and heavy.

      Slowly Arona turned her head towards Vincentius. Perhaps he had a suggestion as to what she should do. But Vincentius had disappeared. This should be rather perplexing. But oddly it didn’t matter to her. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

      I am in a dream perhaps? I feel as though I may be in a dream. That’s the answer, I will give in to this sleepy feeling, and then I will be in a dream for sure. When I awaken everything will be alright.

      She lay down on her side on the ground, and pulling her knees up, curled into a little ball and closed her eyes. Laughing with Vincentius seemed such a long time ago. How quickly everything can change, she thought sleepily.

      #1938
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Yurick wondered for a moment what action was required behind “floating downstream”, the motto that his friend Finn was brandishing with renewed fervor at each of their encounters.

        Perhaps it was actually a “non action”, and that reminded him of all the Taoist texts he had loved to read when he was younger. One of the tenets of the philosophy of Taoists was wu wei 無為 or “non action”, but this was not meant as being lazy and passive, quite the contrary… A bit of a mind-stretching concept:

        WU WEI (from the 道德经 Dao de jing, attributed to Lao Zi)

        The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
        and acts without effort.

        Teaching without verbosity,
        producing without possessing,
        creating without regard to result,
        claiming nothing,
        the Sage has nothing to lose.

        When he had asked his friend Elias about this, Yurick got that answer,

        “We have spoken previously of how you each have divorced yourselves from essence, and subsequently have forgotten your own native language. You now incorporate a desire to be connecting with essence, to be dissolving of the veils that exist between the focus and the entirety of the whole. In this, it communicates to you, but you have forgotten your language! Therefore, be not in distress; and allow yourself the opportunity to be assimilating a new language, and not pressing yourself to be attempting to interpret within your present language.” [session 100, June 16, 1996]

        and that completed nicely another thing he had previously heard from him, speaking about our natural language in essence:

        “Be listening to your impressions and be recognizing of your impulses, and DO NOT be denying of your impulses! This is your language to yourself from essence, and it is not harmful to you. It naturally moves you into the most efficient directions, but you are taught within your belief systems to be discounting of your impulses and to be suspect of your impulses, for they are bad. They are not! They are your natural language to yourself. Therefore, be listening to this language.” [session 294, July 01, 1998]

        So basically, floating downstream, or being in the wu wei state of mind required only one thing, to be focusing and acting upon our impulses, and not judging or denying them… Probably the most challenging thing we are learning to do now…

        #1571

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Acorn sync! I picked up an acorn from a Holm (cork) Oak a couple of days ago, and left it in the car. Then I wondered what it was, I said Oh, it’s an acorn, haha! and tossed it into the side of the road, and had a thought of it growing there :)

          #424

          — The legend of Mævel — (Part VII)

          Today was the Day of the Forgotten. Mævel had slept well, nestled into the soft and warm depth of her dreams, her head resting on the short blue fur of the fox.
          In sharp contrast with the lovely night, she awoke strangely irritated. Even the birds songs were like noise to her ears, and every sound of the forest she heard with acute intensity and a sense of being submerged by many sensory inputs.
          Hopefully, the blue fox voice was still very comforting, and she started to wonder how they could come across a Forgotten One in need.

          — I think I know where we can find some Forgotten One in need.
          — Where? asked Mævel

          The fox paused, then answered her question:
          — Near your human parents’ home.

          Mævel was surprised. She trusted the fox, and never had really questioned him, because more than that she trusted her own feelings, but now her feelings were telling her that there was something the fox had not told her. Or had told her partially. She was silent, pondering the unseen implications.

          — Mæ, I’ll try my best to answer your questions, but remember I cannot tell you everything. I can help you remember some things, but there are things that my curse does not allow me to reveal. You have to find them by your own, in order to free us…
          — Free us? I thought you were the one Cursed?…
          — Yes I am, and…
          — How do you know my parent’s home? How much do you know about me?
          — I know you since you are a baby actually. And even before…
          — Before? I don’t understand a thing… I feel there are some unseen links, that I cannot decipher, yet they are so close to…
          — You’re right, there are links, links that are important, and that I cannot reveal.
          — Why can’t you reveal them?
          — Let’s go to your human parent’s home…
          — Why do you always say my human parents?

          The fox blew in front of him, creating a wobbling sound into the air in the form of a ring large enough for them to go through it. And he hopped inside, disappearing in mid-air.

          Mævel was perplexed, but did not hesitate. She hopped too into the watery ring in front of her and found herself falling into a void, to reemerge on a bed of dry leaves in front of her parent’s home. Blohmrik the blue fox was seated in front of her, observing a shadowy form at a distance in front of them.

          — Is that the Forgotten One we will help?
          — Yes.
          — Why do you need me? You could help her, couldn’t you?
          — She wouldn’t see me, Forgotten Ones are usually obsessed by a few people, those who they feel can remember them, and don’t usually see other people. Their perception is quite different than ours.
          — Hang on a minute… Why do you think she will see me?

          Mævel looked into the eyes of the fox, and she knew.

          — We are linked.

          It was more an affirmation than a question.
          Mævel wondered who that shadowy figure was. When she focused on her, the form was getting more solid, and she could catch glimpses of how she looked like. And she was surprised. She was about her age, with long blond hair as hers.
          Mævel’s voice was broken:
          — My parents had told me I was about to die when I was a baby, then by a sort of miracle, I became healthy… Was that true?… I mean… Was that a gentle way of telling me that I had a twin who died or…
          — No, Mæ. She is not you. She is not linked to you by blood. You can talk to her, she will listen to you.

          So Mævel went to see the shadowy figure. She had stopped wandering and trying to find an opening around the house, for there were none for spirits: all openings were locked by stripes of red cloth hung onto the doors and windows.
          Mævel felt the pain of the Forgotten One as she approached her.

          — Who are you? she suddenly asked Mævel, raising her head at her approach.
          — I am Mævel.
          Mævel… It means marvel of Maÿ… I was born in Maÿ…
          — What are you doing here?
          — This is my parents’ home.
          — How is that possible?
          — Twenty one year ago, I was taken away from them, given to Shaint Lejüs in place of a fairy princess. But Shaint Lejüs was no fool, he had sent his apprentice to spy on the fairy king.
          — Blohmrik?!
          — Yes, Blohmrik… But Blohmrik disobeyed the Elder God, and when he saw the exchange that was about to happen, he let it happen. He wanted to protect the fairy princess from his master. Because Shaint Lejüs wanted the princess as a bride. Ahahaha, how disappointed Lejüs was when he saw that I could not perform the most basic magic spells. I was good at nothing, so he let me go wandering into his Realm. He’d just thought the half-fairy princess had inherited no magic from her father.
          — How do you know all that?

          — I told her, the blue fox said. I was hoping to bring her relief. But she started to look for her parents, and Lejüs discovered the truth… Because she was not looking for a fairy king. She was heading here, year after year.
          — That’s the reason of your curse, is it?
          — Yes. She can’t see me because I was Forgotten too, in that form of a blue fox. But as Forgotten Ones don’t forget, I didn’t forget. I couldn’t tell her, because she couldn’t see me.
          — So, I am that fairy princess you are talking about… that strange idea was starting to dawn on Mævel.
          — Yes. When Lejüs discovered who you were, he wasn’t interested in you any longer, because he thought your magical potential had been irremediably damaged by all those years spent in human company.

          — Who are you talking to? the shadowy figure asked, bemused.
          — Blohmrik, he is here. But it’s untrue, Mævel said, there is magic in me.
          — Yes there is, answered the blue fox, and you can undo what has been done with it.

          Mævel remembered the useless key she had manifested when she had tried to go out of her human parents’ house. She had not even looked at it closely.

          — You can manifest it again Mæ, said the fox. It is with you. You are its lock.

          And no sooner had Mævel thought of the big rusted key, than it appeared in her hand again. But this time the rust on it was crackled, and it started to disintegrate, and a brilliant shiny metal started to show beneath it.

          Scratching what was left of the rust, Mævel started to look at the beautiful key, it was shaped as a musical note, and it had some word written on it, in an ancient language she didn’t know how to read. But she knew the sound when she ran her finger on the surface of the word.

          « Araoni »

          That was her. She was remembering, and everything started to change.

          :fleuron2:

          The wedding of the God Blohmrik, son of Mirÿnda, Goddess of Mirth and of Bälias, God of the Sparkles with Araoni, daughter of the Fairy Queen Theÿa and the Fairy King Aldurion was pronounced on a bright day of Maÿ, in a beautiful orchard in the presence of Araoni’s human parents and sisters and brothers.

          Even Lejüs had been invited, even though he would have preferred to be Forgotten…

          :fleuron:

          And so my story ends… said Captain Bone to Tomkin.

          — And was the shadow remembered by her true parents? had asked Tomkin.
          — Oh, yes she was… Of course. She just didn’t want to steal the limelight from Mævel, you see. Her parents were happy of course to find back their true daughter.
          — You didn’t tell me the name of the true daughter, did you?
          — No, I didn’t, said Captain Bone with a wink.

          #405

          The mummy opened her eyes.

          She had that uncomfortable feeling… hunger that’s it… she was very hungry.

          :yahoo_skull:

          She wondered a moment how to open the sarcophagus and just imagined it open.

          She went out slowly… regaining slowly her bodily sensations.

          #403

          November, 1 st 2057

          Sean took another glass of scotch to give him some courage to call.

          — It’s your twelfth now, that’s supposed to give you courage
          — Oh, Maggie, my live is such a mess…
          — It’s not, and you know it. Look at all our beautiful children, and Becky who went through so much just out of love for you…

          Sean didn’t know whether he was actually seeing the ghost of his deceased wife, or a projection of her, still alive in another part of the Universe, but she always had been a comforting presence.
          He had started to see her a few months after her disappearance.
          Yes, during that T.R.A.P. expedition, yeah, “live-changing experience” they had said… True, too true… Perhaps the electromagnetic field had messed up with his brains, but now he could see her clear as day.

          That had been a bit freaky in the beginning, and when they made love with Becky, he was a bit anxious to see her appear not invited. But Margaret had been discrete, well mostly. At times, he wondered if she had not sneaked into the bedroom and merged her energies with Becky’s, just to be closer to him… Becky’s acts did not always make sense anyway, so that was hardly a criterion to judge of that.

          All his live had been like that. A jumble of incoherent stuff. Oh, he had enjoyed it, especially at the beginning. His father Lord Wrick was obsessed with the Shift, and had found some ancient knowledge in his youth. Mostly rubbish by nowadays standards, bunches of rotten books of prophecies handed down to a few chosen ones, who were supposed to be forewarned of doom to come. Now, they knew that they were only a wake up call, but at that time, it was another thing altogether.

          Of course, the wealth accumulated over the centuries by the Wrick family had been helpful to access these precious archaeological documents. A few of them had played a key role.
          For instance, the in-extenso Life and Deeds of Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson, a rare version of the diary of Lord Fergusson, annotated by his daughter, Illi, was telling an account of history much different than the one romanced after his death by his wife Floribunda von Grott.
          Thanks to it, Lord Wrick had been able to acquire some inkling as to ancient treasures. Old fool…
          It had killed his wife, Artemisia, devastated by the madness of her husband, and it had alienated the other part of the family too.
          But all that counted was to make the discoveries, and perhaps enlight the masses.

          Sean had never really forgave his father that he wanted to utilise Margaret and have her fit into his plans of grandeur. Of course, his father had willingly accepted the union, and despite all appearances (for the sake of those rapacious journalists) he had even pushed Sean to do it quickly. But all he was really interested in was her precious discoveries.

          — Oh, but I was not innocent, Sean
          — I know Maggie, you were obsessed by what we could offer to you, especially when you read about the botanical experiments in the deserts, which were related in that old book. But still…
          — We all had grown up through that, you know…
          — Yes, and what showed me that, was that I was concerned that the old vampire would suck my own children into his web, but Peregrine was too free for that, and Guinevere preferred to live her live outside of this madness too.
          Becky had a good influence. Do me a favour, be kind to her.
          — You know what?… Yes of course you’d know,… but let me tell you, so that we can laugh together… I found myself really happy and free when I stole the two magical books out of the Old Fool’s clutch. God knows how he acquired them, but one thing was sure, he was obsessed with them. I couldn’t get the mummy, but the books were a great take.
          — And a funny idea to give them to your cousin…
          — Yes, Dorean was the perfect person. I couldn’t leave them anywhere, my father would have found them again. At least he wasn’t in good terms with his brother and sister-in-law, so they were safe in their care. And at least, they were more grounded than my father, the perfect keepers for the books… I’m wondering what happened to them…
          — That will upset you, but Perry’s twins got them.
          — Oh really?
          — Yes, and they are having fun with them, as was intended.
          — That’s fine then, and we are less obsessed now than we were before, so I guess my father isn’t as much as a pain in the butt as he was…
          — You father meant good
          — Yes, like everyone, but why can’t we leave people alone at times? People can sort out their issues without the commiseration, and the good intentions… It’s poison even worse… Like I can drink and still be healthy, and nice, and…

          Sean started to sob.

          — I know, darling, but you’re as much of a sore as your father was… You focus so much on what’s not going right, and you don’t even appreciate that you can talk with your departed wife… That was nothing as easy in the old days.
          — Do you think my father talks with mum to?
          — I think he would be too proud to admit he is sorry… That may hinder the communication… But Arty wouldn’t bear grudge now. When we let go of the physical, things become so clear, we can only be accepting of everything. Perhaps you prefer to wait for your father to cross over? I can tell you something, that won’t be easier. That much I know.
          — You’re right. It’s just that I don’t know how to start…
          — Be yourself, talk about what you enjoy, where is your passion now… Perhaps that is the problem. You’re drowning your passion in your scotch.
          — You’re right… I’ll tell him Léan will have a baby.
          — Oh, he’ll love it!
          — How time flies… sighed Sean, I still remember the little sweetie as a blue-eyed laughing baby herself, with Oliver and Illana. She was the only one of the triplet to have inherited her mother’s dark complexion. She’s so beautiful…
          — Let’s call your father darling
          — Yes, let’s call him.

          ***

          Lord Wrick had not expected to received that call. Well, he had renounced it so long ago.
          He had been a bit shaken, but also relieved. He had proposed, on an impulse, to invite that whole part of the family he barely knew, Sean’s new partner, and all their children for next Christmas in the castle. Sean had told him they would probably come with Becky but that the children were now having their own lives, and it would have to be for another time.

          ***

          Lord Wrick went to see Bill, who was now painting the portraits of Peregrine and Linda in the veranda.
          He would probably have to stay longer, to paint a lot of new family portraits.

          That probably would come perfectly, as ever, as the Lord could tell India Louise loved to spend time with the painter. Perhaps she would become an artist too… :sumari:

          #392

          — The legend of Mævel — (Part IV)

          Mævel’s mind was made up, she was leaving tonight. She took a few of her belongings in a little bundle, and all very silently, moved to the door, the bundle in one hand, and the key in the other.

          But when she tried to put the key into the lock, she noticed something was wrong. The key was way too big for the small lock. What was the purpose of materializing a big key unfit to the locks that were in front of us? she wondered.
          Perhaps the key will have another use, she said to herself, and she put it into her bundle, and wondered whether she could find another way to get out of the bedroom.

          « Use your magic,… you don’t need to play by the rules » a tiny voice whispered in her ear.
          « What does that mean? » she asked, befuddled, as perhaps her parents where right after all, she was becoming nuts… Well, that might attract squirrels and have them gnaw a hole in that wall, she said giggling to herself.
          « You don’t need draw squirrels,… you can draw a door directly »

          What a strange idea, Mævel thought, drawing a door… It sounded so funny at the moment, that she could feel her heart lift and her spirits as well. What could she use to draw that door… Her gaze ran quickly through the bedroom, looking for a bit of chalk, or charcoal, or whatever else. What a terrible thing that she was so obsessed by dusting, as there wasn’t even a single dust bunny left to draw that door.

          « Now, will you pay attention? »
          « I beg your pardon? »
          « What did I told you? »
          « Mmmm, let me think… Oh! I don’t have to play by the rules… »

          So, in a bout of genius, Mævel ran her finger on the wall, starting from the floor, straight upwards, then to the right, and straight down again, until… well, nothing happened.

          « That wall hasn’t budged any! »
          « Are you sure?… Look closer »

          And Mævel saw that the wall had become like a shiny surface of water, right inside where she had drawn the limits of that imaginary door. And when she pressed her finger, it was simply going through it, as though the surface had just been an illusion.

          With a thank for the helpful voice in her head, she was about to cross the surface, but was stopped in her track by a moment of hesitation. Could she change the destination behind the wall as well?
          Why not, after all, she didn’t have to play by the rules.

          « To the forest! » Mævel ordered intently to the wall before jumping in.

          The voice smiled to her fondly.

          #391
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Tina was so happy Becky had sorted her hair problems so creatively. She wondered if she should tell her she had missed a bit at the back of her head. Yes of course she must.

            She also wondered if she should get changed before she met the others. Al had said he liked her new dress and then winked at her. What did that mean? Winks always made her a bit uneasy. They were so ambiguous.

            Oh that’s right, she could configure it anyway she chose she remembered. So she spent a few happy minutes remembering how fantastic she looked, like a supermodel actually.

            She would give the gift voucher to Sam for his birthday now Becky didn’t need it, she decided. No matter his birthday was months ago, she was always late with birthday gifts and preferred to do things on impluse. Not that Sam had any hair issues that she knew of, she just thought he would enjoy meeting Hari. :face-wink:

            She thought how great life was. Really it was all just about having fun. She felt so much easier with the play they were writing too, no longer concerned she could not follow the plots, plots? what a funny word to use, of the others, content just to follow her own unique path.

            #1382
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              All alone on page two, Tracy wondered if she had slipped into another dimension, the Page Two Dimension…..:yahoo_idk:

              #385
              AvatarJib
              Participant

                Yann was more quiet now… all these stuffs about his work was calming down and Quintin was coming soon living with him.
                They were feeling something unfamiliar going on, but it wasn’t fully inserted yet in the physical.

                Many things had changed.

                Surfing on the internet, he saw a picture of a nine-tailed blue fox… he wondered what it was all about…

                #375
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Tina politely pointed out, she was only reading the Reality Times, Becky’s news source of choice, and the sentiments and ideas expressed were not necessarily her own. She wondered, gently, why Becky was so defensive when she had only been asking for input.

                  Was it because her hair was falling out?

                  Anyway, even her new haircut could not disguise the big bald patch Becky had created, somehow, thought Tina, compassionately.

                  #1449
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    For the benefit of Finn, who wondered, here is an excerpt of an interesting conversation:
                    (# 241)

                    TP: ok, so Sean and Becky get it together then, and have triplets, then quintuplets
                    TP: then quads
                    TP: IVF
                    TP: hahaahhaah
                    Q: wow
                    TP: 12 kids
                    Q: poor Becky Pooh
                    Q: =))
                    TP: and Sam is godfather
                    TP: oh she finds she loves it
                    TP: haahahahah
                    Q: interesting
                    TP: but, Sean drinks a lot, and Sam helps her

                    #362

                    Give it to me Arona. I’ll look after it. Sanso wondered if he was making the right decision.

                    (Becky wondered if she was making the right decision. Well never mind, she thought, I can edit it out later if I change my mind)

                    Arona glared at him, but handed the tiny bundle over to Sanso. He stared into the little blue eyes and fell in love with the baby. Poor wee mite, he said, bandied about like this like a baton in a relay race. I’ll look after you. The baby gurgled and Sanso had a strange feeling that the baby was in fact choosing to be with him, and that he had just agreed.

                    #340
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      hmmmm, said Arona, this is rather a predicament.

                      I am going to have to face this head on, she said to the others in her usual practical manner. Okay I can’t look after this baby in the cave, I had better pop out for a bit and see if I can bump into a spare nanny somewhere. Then the nanny can look after the baby while I continue my explorations

                      Arona looked down at the wee baby face though, and it was so very endearingly ugly, that she wondered if she would be able to leave little Yikesy with a nanny. She hugged Yikesy to her lovingly.

                      I will just have to play it by ear, she thought, although she knew the answer already.

                      #344
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Becky waited patiently at the doorstep on the third floor of her apartment building, trying to hail a gondola cab. The canvas bag over her shoulder was heavy. In it she had a thermos flask of rice water and poppy heads for her friend Sam, who had telephoned her with the news that he was unwell.

                        While she waited, she wondered about Tina and Al. They hadn’t said anything, but Becky sensed there were some issues bubbling under the surface. Tina’s strange behaviour when she answered the phone; Al’s uncharacteristically rude discounting of the outing she’d planned for them all….well! They will soon bounce back, Becky thought, If there’s anything I can do, I’m sure they’ll ask. Meanwhile, Becky chanted the mantra, It Matter’s Not; Everything Is Perfect…..

                        #342
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Al was concerned about Tina. He wondered why at times it was like their moods were at the antipodes of each other. Like one was in summer when the other one was in winter. Of course, seasons had gone awfully awry in the past (well, in people’s perception at least), and cherry trees were at times blooming in the late autumn, so that was hardly a good metaphore. Enfin bref…
                          Sometimes he wished they could move to a part of the Earth were the differences were leveled or not so dramatic, but of course, that would be focusing unduly on what seems awry, and not appreciating the differences for what they brought in understanding for each other.

                          Like most people now, Tina and him were living in a free relationship, not bonded by written contracts, just by a mutual wish to be experiencing a common exploration. But lately, especially with the play writing, deep issues had surfaced between them, and he was no longer sure of what they were exploring, as it was like shifting sands. Of course, now, most people were shifted themselves, thanks to the new generations of children who were exceptionally gifted in accessing their own essence. But for them, in their mid-30s, there were still issues linked to their old patterns of thoughts, many deeply ingrained ways of thinking, coming from many generations before them.
                          That T.R.A.P. attraction thing was a good example of the differences. It was mostly an attraction park for his generation, not really for children, as they were greatly able of doing these kinds of inner-travels without the aid of technology —not that they didn’t enjoy it either.

                          Al was thinking of a gift for Tina. He wanted to show her that she had really transformed Jadra, or that they had come a long way since the wandering in the cave tunnels, or that everything started to make sense, even the invisible friend Blohmul…
                          Well, there were still mysteries around him, (not mysteries really, but things yet at the state of seeds, or potentials) but he was no longer a hair on the soup they cooked. He was the blue fox of Mævel, and more interestingly, that cursed god was the son of Mirÿnda, the Goddess of Mirth —but that, Tina had not realized yet…

                          Actually, now that he was looking at the entry, Al noticed that Jadra was last seen with Mirÿnda, and that struck him as something more than a coincidence…

                          #329

                          Becky wondered why Finn kept calling her Dory. It didn’t matter though, it was always fun chatting with Fiona (or Finn as she now liked to be called), and Finn was always calling her different names. Becky rather liked it.

                          The thing is, Finn, Dory tapped into the keboard, when they’d finished laughing, As everyone knows, There Are No Secrets.

                          finn_tastic57: HHMMM :yahoo_thinking:

                          becdorsansilli: :yahoo_at_wits_end:

                          finn_tastic57: This is a clue, you know. We should be able to just ‘know’, you know, just access the info :yahoo_idk:

                          becdorsansilli: I wonder if these whispers are secret?

                          finn_tastic57: I guess the group admin can access them

                          becdorsansilli: well
                          becdorsansilli: we wil go public to save him a possible moral dilemma :yahoo_rofl:

                          Becky was even calling herself Dory now, she noticed. That Finn was a bad influence.

                          #328
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Dory and Finn were chatting on messenger. At least Finn thought she was chatting to Dory, however Dory had such a wide personality that sometimes Finn was not quite sure. It didn’t matter though, it was always fun.

                            Dory was asking Finn if she knew what “plans” Yann was talking about in one of his recent messages. Apparently Quintin and Yann had secret plans, well were they secret? Finn wondered Maybe everyone else knew about them except Dory and Finn.

                            it’s all complete Jibberish to me said Dory, a little huffily, although Finn knew it was really just hurt that they were kept so in the dark.

                            yes, riddles and more riddles from those two agreed Finn. Well anyway, isn’t it great that some of us at least have a sense of purpose and direction. Finn laughed.

                            And Dory laughed too. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

                            #320
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              Sean put the letter in his pocket. Perhaps a trip to the Amusement Park wasn’t such a bad idea. He always enjoyed Becky’s company, and he was curious about dear old Al. Becky’s postscript hadn’t made a great deal of sense, but then, Becky was a bit like that. The truth of it was, he needed a break.

                              Sean wondered if Tina would be there. He remembered their brief meeting, and how he’d been struck by her sweet voice. And Sam, dear funny Sam!

                              Sean put his hat on, and walked out into the clammy Irish drizzle. A pint of guinness in The Dunloughpadraisobahairiedunkennyloughaire Arms to celebrate, I think! He patted the letter in his pocket and smiled for the first time in months.

                              #318
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Let me show you something, Dory. George reached into a big red and orange and purple kilim carpet bag ( Dory wondered where it had appeared from; she certainly didn’t recall seeing there when they arrived) and pulled out a large sheaf of printed papers. He passed it to Dory.

                                Dory read on the first page:
                                Chapter 343,482,927,457,299,209,2819,298,357,008,557,057: ‘REMEMBERING
                                Blimey, said Dory, Long book!

                                George grinned enigmatically and said, Indeed.

                                Dory flicked through the pages, reading a bit here and a bit there. Glancing up at George she said, I guess you couldn’t possibly carry the whole book round with you all the time in your carpet bag, the whole book must be enormous!

                                Oh, the whole book is always in my bag, he said.

                                Really? Dory asked in a disbelieving tone.

                                Why yes, of course. ‘It’s all in there somewhere’ he said, and laughed heartily, and a trifle rudely, Dory thought. Yes Dory, the whole book is always in there.

                                With a hmpf, Dory returned to scanning the pages. Before long she was overcome with waves of nostalgia and familiarity and deja vu, even a sort of backwards deja vu…a vuja de…Dory snickered to herself…

                                Why is this chapter called remembering, George? If I had written this chapter I’d have called it forgetting.

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