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Becky, Tina, Al and Sam, in New Venice

So the Story goes...

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  • February 19, 2008 at 8:29 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #713
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Becky was far too happy to mind the snide undercurrents she could sense from poor jealous Tina. Dear Tina, she’d had eyes for Sean all along, Becky had known right from the start.

      Becky smiled kindly as she said to Tina: You’re such a sweetie pooh, Tina. I’m so glad you’re going to be such a big part of our special day.

      And then Becky threw her arms around her in a great telepathic energy bear hug and said ‘I love you, Tina’.

      Tina visibly quailed, Becky accurately remotely viewed, and her complexion turned an alarming shade of blotchy green. Tina spun round to the toilet, retching, thanking her lucky stars that she was already in the bathroom and close to the lavatory.

      February 19, 2008 at 8:37 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #714
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        oh fuck, I am sorry Becky, I don’t know if I will be able to be head witness at your wedding, said Tina weakly a few minutes later, I feel terrible! Did you just bear hug me by the way? It is hard to tell over the phone, but I thought I felt a blast of your energy.

        February 19, 2008 at 9:02 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #715

        Several days later, when the wedding celebrations had finished, nobody could remember anything about it, other than the jokes and poems. In true Russian custom, there had been ample alcohol…well, more than ample, there had been several hospital admissions from alcohol poisoning, drunken brawls and accidents.

        Becky swallowed another aspirin, recalling one of the jokes that Sam had told.

        As a Lord Wrick was driving down the freeway, his cell phone rang.

        Sam continued: Answering, he heard the mummy’s voice urgently warning him, “Wrick, I just heard on the news that there’s a car going the wrong way on the M4. Please be careful!”

        “It’s not just one car,” said Wrick, “It’s hundreds of them!”

        Sheesh, sighed Becky.

        As she poured herself another mug of coffee, a limerick popped into to her head.

        There was an Old Crone with a beard,
        Who said, ‘It is just as I feared!
        Two Owls and a Lynx,
        And a Rabbit in Pink,
        Have all built their nests in my beard!’

        Who had told that one, was it Sean? Becky smiled wanly as another one popped into her head.

        There was an Old Abbot whose habits,
        Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
        When he’d eaten eighteen,
        He turned perfectly green,
        Upon which he relinquished those habits.

        The toast popped up, and as Becky buttered it she remembered a joke of Al’s.

        Most dentists chairs go up and down, don’t they? Al asked the wedding guests.
        The one I was in went back and forwards.
        I thought, “This is unusual.”
        The dentist said to me, “Al, get out of the filing cabinet.”

        February 19, 2008 at 9:24 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #716
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Tina and Becky hooted with laughter over the wedding images

          oh great wedding, not that I remember any of it, but thank god it is over! gasped Becky when she had stopped laughing.

          Good grief! is that Sean? asked Tina.

          February 19, 2008 at 9:32 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #717

          Becky, Becky, wake up… Lordy, she’s really in denial, you’re right sweet pea…
          We’ve got to rush now, all the people are already arrived now, and we’ve got to go to the civil ceremony now
          Yes, yes, we’ve got plenty of rice for you Becky
          What? Yes, I suppose she ate those mushrooms that were in the blue mud package. They were only supposed to be rehydrated and applied on the face, not eaten… Now she’ll be delirious for quite some hours…
          Peregrine, Guinevere, kids, yes, take that dress, and take good care of the bride herself, she’s not much on her two feet today…

          Al was doing his best to apply all the self-centering techniques he knew and not let things get awry now… Glad he had Tina to help, her practical senses sharp as ever.

          February 19, 2008 at 9:58 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #718

          The rain started to pour down… Becky moaned and winced at each of the thunder strokes.

          Don’t worry, as they say in the bayou, “mariage pluvieux, mariage heureux”. (rainy wedding, merry marriage) Al said with a wink.
          Anyway, should be over for the vin d’honneur, he added hastily, hoping that the circus tent that was set up would be big enough to accommodate all the guests in case he’d be wrong…

          He didn’t even want to imagine what the Russian fluorescent bacon they had planned to serve for the toasts would look like drenched in rain…

          February 19, 2008 at 10:20 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #719
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Becky put the butter back in the fridge and noticed a large casserole dish covered with a cloth. She peered into the dish, wondering what it was.

            Oof! said Becky, wrinking her nose in distaste. It was leftovers of that ghastly reindeer stew that Elvira and Boris had contributed to the wedding feast, made with Al’s gruesome green bacon.

            It’s a miracle we didn’t all die of food poisoning, thought Becky. That batty old crone Elvira was too old to be trusted in a kitchen, anyway. 121 years old, and showing no signs of kicking the bucket yet. Bring back euthanasia, she thought wickedly.

            Oh I don’t mean it really, she said to herself (out loud, in case Tina was remotely viewing her again). I love Elvira really.

            February 19, 2008 at 11:52 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #720

            As the bride and groom were exchanging the rings, Al was brought back a few weeks earlier, when Becky had announced the little group she and Sean would get married. The initial excitement gone, Tina, Sam and Al had been given the honor to organize that very special day, while Becky surely wouldn’t care to be bothered by such petty things.

            I think she’s already getting that distinguished snobbish style of the Wricks muttered Tina who was not so fond of being handed down these kinds of unprompted crottes.
            Al, who was probably thinking as much managed a Don’t be so hard on her, that’ll be a mighty fine wedding, after all, marrying a Wrick has its advantages, we don’t have to be measly on the expenditures
            Sam, a bit lost in circles, had acknowledged.

            Well, that had been fun after all, at least Al was thinking, he had not needed to deal with Becky’s own mood fluctuations. As the only Sumafi of the group, he had willingly taken care of the list of the guests, and all the catering orders, while Tina was taking care of the decoration (bride included), and Sam was arranging for the organization and rental of the places and hotels for the wedding and its slew of guests.

            Of course, as intimate Becky had first required the wedding to be, she had soon changed her mind, and had not resisted long the temptation to gather lots of people she had almost forgotten over the years.
            Al could almost see clear as day — now the weather had brighten up a bit — in his mind his notepad full of Becky’s recommendations:

            Becky’s family and friends
            Sam, Tina & Al (of course)
            Sabine Baina (mother) and Patel Mahapushtra, her new husband (a child’s toys mogul)
            Dan (father) and Dory (step-mother; might fear a trip to New Venice, you’ll have to use some extra coaxing with her)

            [long list of friends, snipped for reader’s comfort]

            Sean’s family and friends
            (mother deceased, father unwilling to come, pretexting his rheumatisms and not being able travel so far, but most likely unwilling to see Sean)
            Sean’s children, Perry and Guiny
            (aunt and cousin, Deirdre and Dorean Wrick) — Al’s update: they have unexpected guests coming back from Russia at their home, wonder if they could come? Becky: Sure!… Mmmm, Russia you said?

            Now, finding some great gift for someone as easily distracted as Becky, and as spoiled as Sean was another ball of wax…

            February 19, 2008 at 12:02 pm in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #721
            Jib
            Participant

              Sam decided to take some holidays.
              He left a note to his friends and went to Australia.

              February 19, 2008 at 4:00 pm in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #724

              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 attention, she might have looked in the hall mirror, but as it was, she didn’t. It wasn’t until much later, a long way from home, that she realized what she had donned that morning.

              Becky picked up the doll that Patel had given her and grinned. She couldn’t have chosen a more entertaining husband for her mother if she’d chosen him herself. He was such a delightful practical joker, a real hoot, and Becky was very fond of him. She frowned as she turned the strange doll round in her hand, not quite sure what the joke was yet. She was quite sure there would be a laugh in it somewhere though.

              Well, time will tell, she murmured, and headed out of the front door to hail a gondola cab. Shivering as she waited, she thought happily of the honeymoon in Sri Lanka the following week. Becky wondered if they might extend the trip, and visit Sam in Australia.

              February 19, 2008 at 6:23 pm in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #725
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                After a long but uneventful ride in the yellow gondola cab, Becky stepped out onto terra firma and strolled through the park.

                Various fleeting images of the wedding party flashed through her mind, and she recalled the change in Elvira after the meal. She certainly tucked into that reindeer stew, Becky mused, Had a right good scoff, she did. Funny, anyone eating four helpings of that slop would be expected to slump in a chair for an hour or two, but Elvira had sprung into life. She looked pretty good for 121 years old, but who would have guessed what a splendid dancer she was! She put the younger guests to shame with her fancy steps, and tireless enthusiasm.

                And not only that, she’d really come into her own when the drunken fights started, fearlessly breaking up fights between men twice her size.

                February 20, 2008 at 2:10 pm in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #730

                After all the preparations for the wedding, Al was glad it was over.
                He felt as he could sleep for days.

                February 20, 2008 at 5:35 pm in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #732

                Elvira and Boris were knee deep in mushrooms when the strangers appeared asking for food. Visitors were few and far between at the isolated old wooden house, but it was with mixed feelings that Elvira greeted them. It would be wonderful to have a little conversation, some news of the outside world, but this was the busiest time of the year and she hardly had a moment to spare as it was.

                However, she greeted them amiably enough, and invited them inside. Come in, come in, come in! she said, Would you like a cuppa? Are you hungry? There’s some reindeer stew left over from last night.

                Zhana’s stomach growled loudly in response. Would I ever! I am STARVING! Zhana beamed a smile at Elvira.

                Well, sit yourselves down then, if you can find a chair that’s not covered in mushrooms.

                Elvira suddenly had an idea.

                Are you two in a hurry? Would you stay a few days and help with the mushroom packing?

                Zhana looked at Sanso, who nodded. A few days with plenty to eat before their long journey, and a few provisions to take along with them would be perfect.

                Of course we will, we’d be delighted to stay and help, Zhana said to the old lady.

                Splendid! Boris will be so pleased! I’m a great cook, you know, if I do say so myself. As much food as you can eat in return, eh? How does that sound? Elvira smiled at her guests. My, my, girl, what a wonderful complexion you have! she said, peering at Zhana. Like a summer peach!

                Zhana blushed happily, and Sanso beamed.

                February 20, 2008 at 5:50 pm in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #733
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  When Becky realized what she was wearing, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She rummaged in her bag for her phone, and called Al. She would hide behind a bush until he arrived, bringing some clothes with him, she thought.

                  The number you have reached is not connected at this time, the automated voice on the other end told her.
                  RATS! His phone was switched off.

                  Becky tried Tina’s number. Her phone was disconnected too.

                  Becky tried Sean’s number. Thank Flink for that! At least it was ringing.

                  No answer. It rang and rang, but nobody answered.

                  Bloody hell! Sam’s in Australia, he can’t help, what am I going to DO? she wailed.

                  February 20, 2008 at 6:50 pm in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #734

                  That’s when she heard a little voice… not really in her head, the voice was like coming from under the space tissue.

                  Dear RATS… Thou canst do it thyself. Let the power of the Snooshrooms flow through thy skin.

                  — Who’s there? asked Becky anxiously… is it the Snoot? What are the smooshnools? I don’t want any more skin problem, don’t do anything!!!

                  Becky was feeling a bit drowsy again. She was tired of sleeping though and managed to get rid of this feeling.

                  She got startled by her cell phone, it was vibrating furiously now… oh no, just a picture message from Sam.

                  https://www.northrup.org/Photos/Kangaroo/low/kangaroo-laying8.jpg

                  With that distraction she lost grip of herself for a few seconds… and when she woke up she was feeling her head like heavy… how god!!!! what the f…

                  February 21, 2008 at 1:23 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #736
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    What’s that, slow down Felicity I can’t understand what you are saying!

                    Felicity took a deep breath. I am so sorry Tina, there has been a dreadful mix-up with the dresses. The dress that arrived for Becky was meant for another wedding.

                    Oh right, said Tina, well I was a little surprised when I saw it, but then, I have no idea what russian wedding dresses look like.

                    Oh yes I am so sorry, it is a terrible mix-up. Yes that dress was meant for a … well the bride was going to arrive in a huge wedding cake and then pop out the top . Oh Tina we worked weeks on it … and isn’t the dress just luscious! pure silk it is … and we had a ladder purpose built and the groom was going to climb up beside her and say their vows on top of the wedding cake on a revolving pedestal .. and somehow the dresses got mixed up … I am so sorry. Her voice trailed off.

                    Tina, making a valiant attempt to contain her laughter, tried to reassure the distraught Felicity … well I am not sure if Becky even have noticed her dress, she was quite preoccupied with applying peachy glow mineral cosmetics when I last saw her. She has some unfortunate splotches on her face, an allergy to red fruit I think.

                    Oh that poor sweetheart, gushed Felicity sympathetically. Oh I wish I could give her a big hug! She is such a sensitive one, I didn’t want to bother her, that’s why I am ringing you Tina. You are always so calm and sensible. What shall we do?

                    Well to tell you the truth Felicity, I have been trying to contact Becky for the last hour, I can’t get through to her number.

                    February 21, 2008 at 8:46 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #740
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Becky huddled behind a bush, shivering, and trying desperately to pull down the ridiculously short dress she was wearing.

                      I can’t believe I came out wearing my honeymoon outfit, she grumbled crossly. No wonder that Gondola man kept sniggering and pulling his sweater down to his knees. PFFFT! The only nasty habit around here is not looking in the f’kin’ mirror before I leave the house.

                      Becky tried to phone Al again, and then events took a turn for the worse. Her phone battery was dead.

                      February 21, 2008 at 10:15 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #741
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Elvira was tucking into some reindeer stew left over from Becky and Sean’s wedding when she telepathically tuned into Becky’s distress signal. Chewing thoughtfully, Elvira tried to make sense of the visual imagery she was receiving. She seemed to be getting a mixed message; was it a nun, or was it a tart? She reminded herself to trust her impressions, and not discount them even if they seemed incongruous or unlikely, and accepted that Becky was indeed in some kind of tarty nun trouble. The question was, where was Becky.

                        Elvira pushed her empty plate away, and focused on the situation. AHA! Nutley Park, 25th bush on the left.

                        Boris, I’m going out, she said. Becky’s in a spot of tarty nun trouble in Nutley park.

                        Right Ho, dear, shall I come and help?

                        Another image of popped into Elvira’s head of the see-through black mini dress. Er, no Boris, I’ll handle this myself.

                        And with that, Elvira, sprightly old crone that she was (and fortified with mushroom laced reindeer stew) bustled off to hail a gondola cab, carrying a large carpet bag containing a selection of hastily chosen clothing.

                        February 21, 2008 at 11:00 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #742

                        Due to the unusual events in the year 2026, Nishanti and her five sisters lived in the reconstructed ancient city of Hingapooloopi that had been submerged beneath the ocean for centuries. There had been a series of tsunami’s and eathquakes and volcanic eruptions resulting in an enormous hole appearing in the sea bed into which a considerable amount of Indian Ocean sea water had disappeared, lowering the sea levels in some locations, mainly those that had risen slightly due to shifting tectonic plates.

                        Ten year old Nishanti and her five sisters (Hinni, 3; Yaso, 5; Yuvani, 7; Eromi, 13; and Nanda, 16) had lost their parents, and indeed most of their relatives, due to an unfortunate mishap in the kitchens two years previously in the year 2032 at the wedding party of their brother, Chandra. Gayesh, Nishanti’s eldest brother had mistakenly included poisonous red berries in the desert. Fortunately, Nishanti and her sisters had been reading the Snoot Q&A column in The Tarty Nun girls magazine that they had procured without their parents knowledge from a school trip of American tourists, in which Snoot had advised against red fruits.

                        Hingapooloopi was located on the land bridge , once again exposed, between Sri Lanka and the Indian continent. The reconstruction had been an enormously interesting undertaking, and Nishanti’s uncle Roshan had been involved in the ground work excavations. He found many artifacts, which he smuggled off the building site, and secreted under the floorboards of the old family home in the highlands . Perhaps the most interesting one was the crystal skull; certainly it was the one that Nishanti found the most intriguing.

                        February 21, 2008 at 11:12 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #743

                        Al woke up from a series of lucid dreams, interspersed with false awakening in which he was in the same space arrangement, but visibly another time space or even dimension… He was quite familiar now with these stuff, and could remember them well, but still had doubt about the implications of the strange imageries he was getting glimpses of.
                        It was like his tatami (because at this time, Al was finding more comfortable to sleep on the rice-straw mattress) was a flying carpet with its own volition, and Albert, like some modern-time Aladdin, was finding himself plunged right into new horizons.

                        Last vision had almost made him blush of the deranged aspects of his mind. Sure he was finding Becky rather attractive (who wouldn’t, he was wondering), but imaging her scantily clad in that skimpy dress in the middle of the bushes was surely some trick of his luscious mind rather than some bona fide connection of his magic tatami.

                        Good thing too that the joggers (or thought-forms, whatever they might have been) in the park in which the magic tatami had landed couldn’t see the projected form of Al, because he was unable to move right now, except for some embarrassing lower part of his body. Now the tatami was looking like a circus tent. Oh dear… the wedding had been really hard on his nerves, he reckoned.

                        When he finally woke up, he noticed some voice messages on his telephone from Becky and thought he would probably skip mentioning his last synchronicity of his :yahoo_whistling:
                        What was she wanting that necessitated a dozen messages on his phone? Couldn’t she just call Sean, or was he still incapacitated by the gallons of vodka he had “injested”?
                        Well, surely the matter would wait for him to shave, for he was starting to look like Mr Cavern, with the huge hunger too —he smiled at the idea that dear Becky would surely fear he might eat a clue by mistake…

                        :fleuron:

                        Moments later, after a good shower, fresh clothes and some slices of buttered nuts bread with pumpkin jam, he telepathically connected to Becky, wondering why she had not thought of that method in the first place… What was the point of all these group meditations together with Sam and Tina if they couldn’t make good profit of the enhanced neurological pathways they had built together. Granted Becky had always been a bit reluctant to use it, or perhaps just forgetful of that possibility… Anyway…

                        CAN’T YOU JUST KNOCK BEFORE YOU CONNECT! a shriek suddenly filled his skull

                        Al immediately shut the visual, blushing of the renewed deranged vision…

                        — Sorry, I just…
                        — Oh, no need to trail forever on that… I’ve found someone to help me, and yes, I do remember how to connect telepathically!

                        With that, all was left in Al’s skull was a big whooshing wind.

                        February 21, 2008 at 11:32 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #744
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Just as Becky was retorting crossly to Al to please knock before remote viewing her, a clap of thunder made her jump (causing her dress to ride up alarmingly) and the heavens opened. Lashing rain soaked her to the skin, making the few threads of her dress become completely transparent.

                          Becky moaned in disbelief. Well, she giggled, suddenly seeing the funny side. (She was connecting to the Kuzhebarian Laughing Monks). This is one Wet Tarty Nun that couldn’t get much wetter. I hope Elvira brings a towel.

                          February 22, 2008 at 5:16 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #750
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

                            Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

                            Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

                            It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

                            She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

                            She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

                            Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

                            It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

                            Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

                            Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

                            The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

                            An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

                            She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

                            What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

                            I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

                            perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

                            She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

                            February 24, 2008 at 8:27 pm in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #758

                            “Old Leonard teafed Franiel’s chalice
                            Though t’was done without any malice
                            It was nowt but a clue,
                            Not a chore he must do
                            And the same thing applied to the phallus”

                            While Becky shivered in the rain sodden bush waiting for Elvira, the connection to the Kuzhebarian laughing monk was getting stronger, and she amused herself recalling the latest developments in the Reality Play in Limerick form.

                            February 24, 2008 at 9:14 pm in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #759

                            While India pondered the crisis
                            She started connecting to Isis:
                            Seth is the moose
                            That’s loose in your hoose”
                            And she swiftly averted the crisis

                            Becky had fogotten all about Elvira, and the rain, and she’d even forgotten the tarty nun outfit she was wearing. She giggled happily, and wandered off through the park.

                            February 25, 2008 at 12:06 am in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #760
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              Elvira eventually reached the 25th bush on the left at Nutley Park with a bag of assorted garments for the near naked Becky, but there was no sign of her. Elvira investigated the rain drenched foliage, and deduced correctly that the bush had recently been used as some kind of camoflage cover by a taller than average person, mixed race and probably naked.

                              Elvira chortled with delight; she had loved her days as a private investigator, all those years ago. Well, she said to herself, With a combination of forensic and physical clues, and telepathic and remote viewing skills, I’ll have Becky into some dry – and decent! – clothes in no time at all. Elvira stood quite still (in the torrential rain, which drew a few puzzled glances from the people rushing past), with her eyes closed and a happy contented smile hovering about her lips.

                              Elvira was connecting to Becky, but she was picking up diverse and nonsensical impressions. A moose running up a flight of stairs, a monk sitting in the road talking about a cup……

                              Pffft, said Elvira, no point in pushing it. Let’s have a look at the physical clues.

                              There was an obvious trail of flattened wet grass footprints which meandered, at an incongrously liesurely pace, Elvira noted, in a random higgledy-piggledly fashion between the bushes, and occasionally in circles.

                              Elvira set off along the trail with a spring in her sprightly old step and an aura of pleasant anticipation. She loved following a trail of clues! My, my, she said to herself, this is what I’ve been missing. Hhhmmm…..

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