Tracy

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  • in reply to: Synchronicity #1524
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      :yahoo_skull: :yahoo_applause: :yahoo_skull:

      in reply to: Synchronicity #1522
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Another wonderful and bizarre sync! I have no idea why I said ‘coleslaw experiment in the desert’ haah!:yahoo_good_luck:(closest thing to a cabbage icon)

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #297

        ……In case you feel like talking, don’t hesitate any moment, I’ll be here. Anytime.

        Love,

        Becky.

        PS, Becky added as an afterthought in her letter to dear old Wrick, Al’s so looking forward to meeting you in the ‘Amusement Park’ in Central Park, I hope you will disillusion him gently as to the nature of projecting and out-of body excursions……I will leave it to you, Wrick old boy, to decide how best to handle it. Ah, you wise old buffoon, I can hear you saying it now: Al’s choices are perfect, as are yours. Becky smiled fondly and added to the postscript: Wrick, you’re a brick, old stick.

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #295

        Becky had decided to take her friends out for the day. Poor Al needed a break from scratching his head in confusion, and dear Tina needed a break from rubbing her aching temples. She knew Sam would enjoy a day out too.

        Becky was enjoying preparing the itinerary.

        Champagne breakfast at the Droles de Dames cafe in Le Touquet~Pu first, a table reserved under the gaily striped awning overlooking the sea. Fresh croissants and hot coffee, Bavarian cream donuts, tangy fresh squeezed Tesorillo orange and Tiki kiwi juice, scrambled dragon eggs on French toast, and Moroccan mint tea.

        The exhibit of Sand Sculpture was next, a pleasant stroll on the beach after breakfast would be just the ticket, Becky thought.

        Next, a little side trip to place a few hibiscus blooms on the grave of Oscar Wilde. He was buried at the Father Chase Memorial Garden on a mossy knoll overlooking the sand sculptures, a short stroll from the beach.

        A golden coach and six dappled grey horses would meet them at Father Chase gardens and take them to the lawns of Sandlebright Hall, for the hot air balloon ride. The big red balloon would land on Isla de los Perdidos, a magical island in the Rift Straits, for a picnic lunch under the coconut trees and a relaxing swim in the deliciously warm lagoon. Balti had agreed to provide head massages for the little party of day trippers, and had suggested a big iced jug of crop juice as the perfect accompaniament.

        A paddle steamer would arrive to take them back to the mainland after the sojourn on the magical isle. There were comfortable whicker steamer chairs on the deck with cosy tartan blankets for those wishing to snooze a little, or raucous poker games inside the red plush interior for those who chose to exercise their creating skills on the green baize tables.

        The Cirque de Paradoxia matinee was on the agenda for the afternoons entertainment, with the new sonic stone juggling as one of the highlights.

        A theatre supper in Covent Garden, Becky had decided, and the Orient Express was the perfect way to get there. Hercule Poirot had kindly agreed to serve drinks and nibbles on the journey. Becky perused the entertainment section of The Reality Times, wondering which play to take her freinds to. Aha! Salome, of course!

        Becky considerately booked rooms at the Hogwarts Hotel on Queen Street for her friends to freshen up and change, ready for the evenings festivities. A hot pink stretch limosine would call for them and escort them to the Blue Man Group show, and then on to the party at the Dragondrome Stadium.

        Becky booked rooms at the Taj Mc Fal Hotel for her friends to retire to after the party, whenever they so wished…the pink limo would be available all night.

        There, said Becky in satisfaction, they will love it.

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #294

        Illi was beginning to really appreciate being dead and the freedom it provided to create whatever she wished at a moments notice. She’d enjoyed being a shape shifter while she was alive, often changing into a rather odd cat-like creature which was one of her favourites. She’d had tremendous fun over the years, confounding people with that one! Is it a cat? Is it a person? Is it a goat? A mongoose? hahaha what fun she’d had!

        Illi surveyed the long glittering white beach on her paradise island. There must be a million billion grains of sand here. I think I will conjure up some sand sculptures, fill the beach with fantastic magical creatures….

        Illi picked up a bambu cane to use as a magic wand ~ not that she needed a wand in order to perform magic, but she rather liked waving a stick around.

        Abracadabra the magic palabra, fairies and goblins and sprites!

        In an instant the beach was full of sand sprites, a veritable sea of impish little figures as far as the eye could see.

        HHHMM, though Illi, they are all so small, I’d like something big I think, for contrast and added dimension.

        Abracadabra the magic palabra, centaurs and unicorns and giants!

        Lordy, the giants had flattened whole tribes of sand gnomes. A few less giants, I think! Illi waved her magic wand of cane again, and disappeared all but one of the giants. RaFa the Giant, you may stay on my beach, Illi graciously declared to a kindly looking character of monstrous proportions who had considerately appeared at the very end of the beach so as not to flatten the sand sprites.

        On impulse, Illi found herself chanting the spell again…Abracadabra the magic palabra, DRAGONS appear on my beach!

        Four splendid sand dragons appeared in the shallows of the lagoon, sensuously sepentine in appearance, and sparkling in the tropical sun.

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #292
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Becky, if the truth be told, was astonished at the lack of logical comprehension of the other script writers on her additions to the reality play. And not only that, they seem to have missed completely the Key Point of her recent addition to the unfolding saga. She sighed.

          She’d thought Tina might have cottoned on to it, she was always banging on about keys, and sand, but no, she was too obsessed with her ‘alien invasion’ to even notice. And what was ‘reverting back to her own true self’ all about? How ‘real’ was that? In all of Reality Becky had never known an ‘absolute true self’… Reality According To Becky was like… well, like sand….shifting, moving, changing, ever forming and reforming… why, a single grain of sand could even be in more than one place at the same time, shifting and forming and changing in many realities all at once…

          Becky sighed again. Whoever in all of reality would want to contain all the grains of reality sand inside the confines of one measly sandbox?

          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #289

          The arrival of the noisy pink fairy was the last straw for Illi. She imagined her deserted island again and made sure she paid attention to imagining it completely deserted this time. No more fat nuns appearing from the heavens or squalking fairies!

          Illi made the new island a paradise….she magicked up staff when she wanted food or a massage, a gaggle of party people for when she felt like dancing, and blithely disappeared them when she was done. Mostly Illi slept. Her favourite spot was near the lagoon on the sand under the coconut trees. She lay and dozed and drifted and dreamed and imagined and dozed some more, trailing her fingers through the sand, pushing little heaps of sand here and there, pulling them back, making channels and watching the sand sift back in and disappear them. She dreamed of sand sculptures, an astonishing variety and all made from…sand! Tiny grains of sand, made into anything at all…..every tiny grain of conscious energy…made into anything at all…..and in comes the tide and washes and ripples a clean new beach….to make anything at all……

          in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1350
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            It was divine:face-angel:

            in reply to: Talks on the latest Instalments #1447
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              :yahoo_alien: Oh is this wh :yahoo_confused: at the salmon was all about! Eric, the Elias quote you posted in the diary is exactly what I was wondering about yesterday! Interesting….. :world:

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #287
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                India Louise and Eugenia momentarily forgot about the gold locket and walked over to the exceptionally long trunk. India dropped the locket into her pocket as she investigated the exterior of the trunk, which didn’t appear to have an opening. It seemed to have been made around whatever it housed, and permanently.

                ‘How strange’, mused India, ‘it must not be intended to open, ever!’

                ‘That makes me want to open it’, said Eugenia. ‘Let’s! Let’s open it!’

                Eugenia was rummaging in the desk drawers for a suitable tool.

                ‘Wow, look at this, Indy’. She held a heavy black letter opener up to show India, with an elaborate carved dragon on the handle. The dragon had glittering amethyst eyes, and a serpentine line of coloured stones along its back.

                India shivered involuntarily at the sight of the dragon. Horrid nasty creatures, dragons, she muttered, resisting an urge to cross herself. ‘Peace be with you, now bugger off’ she whispered the spell under her breath so Eugenia wouldn’t hear her and think she was a silly goose. Horrid scaley slimy stinky reptiles.

                ‘You go first, Genie, try and prise the trunk open.’ India didn’t want to touch the letter opener, but she was rather curious about the contents of the trunk.

                Eugenia was a strong and capable lass, with a practical methodical mind ~ unlike India Louise ~ and before long the first piece of wood came splintering off.

                ‘Nice one, Genie, well done.’ India said as Eugenia wrenched off another few planks.

                ‘Oh MY GOD!’ ‘Jumping Jehosophat!’ ‘What the……’ ‘Holy Moly, Genie, what the….’. After a few initial exclamations, the girls were silent, the hair standing up on their arms.

                They were looking down at the shrivelled features of a dried up body, covered in bits of disintegrating faded fabric.

                ‘A mummy! It’s a friggen mummy!’

                in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1348
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  PS Merging group head massage at 4:00PM TRT…join me! :face-angel:

                  in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1347
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    psssttt!!! Change of venue this morning, meet me in Munchies at 11:30TRT :yahoo_coffee:

                    in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #284
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      What’s that smell, Indy? It smells lovely in here, like coconut. It’s coming from that trunk over there.

                      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #283
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Laughter is Priceless’ .

                        Hey Genie! Look at this. India Louise held a gold locket up to the lamp. It’s inscribed on the back, look: laughter is priceless.
                        What’s on the front? Eugenia asked, moving closer.
                        The locket was egg shaped and had an unusual south pacific motif on the top, and an inscription in comic sans font on the bottom. Open it, Indy, see if there’s anything inside. Eugenia shivered. OOOhh someone just walked over my grave, she said, shuddering again. It’s weird in here, eh.
                        Yeah, bit scarey really, India Louise giggled, fumbling with the locket catch.

                        in reply to: Talks on the latest Instalments #1444
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Hmmm there is a secret whisper here that I can’t see! :yahoo_angry:

                          in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1346
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Time for a glass of Hot Crop Tea…….:yahoo_tongue:

                            in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1344
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              Yoohoo! the drinks are on me!:weather-showers-scattered:Nice and cosy inside today….

                              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #279

                              Once Illi had realized she was dead and could ‘go’ anywhere she liked simply by creating the ‘place’ around her, she decided to take a long relaxing holiday on a deserted tropical island. She would float in the warm lagoon, feast on coconuts and pina coladas and mangoes, play with the dancing lemurs and build fantastic sand castles on the beaches. As she visualized it, it appeared as if by magic all around her…the sun warm on her head, the sand between her toes, the gentle breeze fragrant with exotic blooms and the sound of gossiping parrots filled her senses. She closed her eyes and flung her arms wide in appreciation for the physical joys she had recreated, breathed deeply and relaxed for the first time since she had died. Finally, she felt like she knew where she was, even if that ‘somewhere’ was as ‘nowhere’ as ‘anywhere’ else, just another ‘elsewhere’ really…..

                              Illi stretched out on her back on the golden sand and squinted up at the cloudless deep blue sky. How nice, she thought, not to have any aches and pains, not to have to worry about shifting and those bloody belief systems, how simply lovely to just BE, with no perceived responsibilities, no interruptions…

                              Just then out of the corner of her eye, Illi saw movement in the sky. Something was descending onto the island. Illi couldn’t make out what it was, and wished she had a pair of binoculars. Silly Illi, she said to herself, reaching for the binoculars that had appeared beside her. I keep forgetting I can create anything at all.

                              Holy Moly! A great fat roly poly nun with a huge jolly grin was wafting down from the heavens, with an irridescent turquoise fairy in tow. They were landing on her island! We’ll see about that! Illi jumped to her feet and stomped off the beach and into the mangroves, sloshing angrily through the watery roots….. until she realized she could hover above the ground, which was a much easier way to travel.

                              Hovering was much quieter too, and the jolly fat nun and the bluegreen fairy were quite unaware that Illi was peering at them from behind a peachy hibiscus bush. In fact, the blooms on the hibiscus had grown to a most ridiculous size, and Illi could hardly see past them. She hovered to the side a bit, and decided on impulse to make her presence known to the intruders.

                              BOUH! :yahoo_skull:

                              in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1342
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Tracy was bored in the Faded Cabbage with nobody but Italians to talk to, so she left:yahoo_wave:

                                in reply to: Join me for a gourd of langoat milk…… #1341
                                TracyTracy
                                Participant

                                  :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_kiss: :yahoo_billy: :yahoo_not_listening: :yahoo_bug: :yahoo_angel: :yahoo_party: :yahoo_call_me: :yahoo_pig: :yahoo_monkey: :yahoo_monkey: :yahoo_praying: :yahoo_nerd: :yahoo_waiting: :yahoo_peace_sign: :yahoo_cowboy: :face-monkey: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_heehee: :yahoo_clown: :yahoo_chicken: :yahoo_alien: :yahoo_chatterbox: :yahoo_waiting: :yahoo_idk: :yahoo_phbbt: :yahoo_big_hug: :yahoo_big_grin: :face-kiss: :yahoo_thinking: :yahoo_tongue: :face-angel: :yahoo_alien: :yahoo_whistling:

                                Viewing 20 replies - 2,141 through 2,160 (of 2,217 total)