scribbles, stuff.

[flubbergasted]

Homestay

The air is so fresh. It blows in from the window, opened wide on the long narrow garden out back. The yellow curtains blow in lazily. It smells like Indian spices, curry. The stereotype is not wrong. It’s a homely smell. The squealing of young children and gently chiding parents, my hosts, resound from outside. It feels so comfortable here.

Purple and yellow and creams, that’s the colour scheme of the room. A vase of plastic red flowers sits on the window sill. It’s charming rather than tacky. My hosts have offered me food for the evening. They are kind. I had my reservations before coming here. But they are quickly fading. Feels like home.

[flubbergasted]

into tomorrow

He barreled forward helplessly like a character in a 2-D game where the only controls were L for left and R for right but he’d be damned if he knew what the jump control was then narrowly he missed a black misshapen thing not even glancing back to check if those really were eyes on stalks like he had imagined and left again to the left and left then a quick right dodging a boulder-like object which swung at his head in an attempt to crush him into non-existence until quite suddenly, he stopped.

A giant rectangle of brilliant white light framed the tall bald man in a suit standing imposingly like a bouncer who had seen one too many sad drunken cases to last a lifetime. At a second glance the Man was not moving not even blinking and perhaps not even... breathing. He waved a hand in front of that blank stare and nothing.

“It looks like I’m dreaming” the Man intoned suddenly from barely moving lips. It was terrifying he found that he had leapt backwards in his haste to get away from the zombie bouncer humanoid Man.

“This must be an exit. Nay, The Exit”

The words dropped heavily from the Man’s lips which moved in a flutter in such haste to expel them. There was no reverberation or echo in the light-less space and no indication of depth so for all he knew they could be in a small antechamber or a grand cavern. But there it was The Exit.

“It’s almost midnight and departure is imminent, I can’t miss the train”

Right he had to get on that train departing for somewhere which was not here. Not a single twitching muscle in that smooth alabaster face. He wondered what would happen if he pushed the Man through the door.

“Only one way to find-” went the Man as he fell backwards all 220 pounds of muscle through the rectangle to vanish consumed by the light. He flung himself forward after the disappeared figure as midnight struck into tomorrow.

[flubbergasted]

sleep

A thousand twinkling lights spread beneath the sky,

Winking gently as the seconds go by,

Towards the dark depths of night.

[flubbergasted]

collapse

The selection was over, the choice made. “For the most beautiful”, the trophy sat on the mantelpiece of ornate carved ivory. The sisters lay on the rugs playing a game of chess. It was a golden afternoon and a delicious breeze stirred the air. There was nothing to do and no-one to see, they had all the time in the world.

“Darling, you know he made the best choice. Her skin is supposed to be dewier than a leaf in morning mist - say, dewier, is that a word? I caught a glimpse of her once, down below, in passing. Nice hair, for a mortal I mean.”

The other sister said nothing, solemn eyes intent on the game at hand. With a flick of the wrist, she captured the queen adding it to the neat little pile on her side of the board. She raised an eyebrow, “Aphie, you’re losing. Badly.”

Aphie rolled her eyes, “I hate this game and you know it. It’s so much thinking." She stretched languidly, enjoying the warmth of the dusty sunshine filtering through the white gauze drapes. “The world, does not need more thinkers! Love - love is all we need.” She looked at her dark-haired sister lazily from the corner of one eye and moved a pawn to an innocuous position.

The other shrugged and drew her knees close to her chest, “That poor boy. You’ve doomed him.”

Aphie scoffed, “Please, you’re just sulking because he didn’t pick you.” She plucked a grape from the fruit bowl and rolled it around in her mouth, a cool little marble so pleasing to the senses. She smirked, “Thene, when was the last time you looked at a man... or woman if it please you?”

Thene frowned. Those cold grey eyes, so closed and distant, gazed at the board as if it contained the entirety of the universe. She glanced up suddenly, as if she had just remembered that Aphie was there beside her. Then slowly, quietly, she said:

“All games must end, in victory or defeat. Giving up is a defeat. Limbo, an eventual one. You gave him what he thought he desired, but at what price? It ends in blood and ruin. As it always does.”

Dust motes drifted down from the vaulted ceiling, freefalling in the vast silence. Thene made her move. “Checkmate.” Far beyond the tall archways, the clashing of men and steel echoed faintly like a distant dream.

[flubbergasted]

coven

The moon hung high above the circle of shadowy figures, its reflection rippled in the silver pool. They crowded around it like beasts of the jungle around a watering hole. One, or was it several?, voices sang a plaintive melody, the notes trailing into the dark night. The woods were sleeping, subdued, save for their presence.

One voice cried out, husky and urgent:

“Oh brothers, sisters - be still, for he comes, the life-carrier!”

Into their midst, a black cat slipped, large as a panther. It padded into the pool, the water rising mid-haunch, and sat up looking among them with its brilliant green eyes. Its shape blurred, and then it was a cat no more, but a beautiful ebony-skinned youth who knelt in the pool, arms relaxed in graceful tension.

“I have come, I bring you life.”

His voice was solemn and low, it resonated through the sudden stillness of the shadows. They faced him now, faces inscrutable, bland and shapeless. Only their eyes gleamed, with the fear of their mortality, eager and hungry. He raised his arms to the moon and sung, a single word in an ancient language repeated again and again. The meaning of the word had long been forgotten by man but not by the beasts, who stirred uneasily in their sleep, hearts quickening to the beat. The shadow figures danced in a shivering ecstasy. Their bodies grew solid and heavy. Their faces were smoothed and beatific, sculpted into beautiful masks, noble and proud.

And then it was finished, the final note hanging in the air. One stepped forward silent and quick, breaking the mirrored water of the pool. It gently touched the, now again, cat who lay curled upon itself, still and breathless.

“His task is finished”, it murmured sadly.

They slipped away one by one into the heavy darkness. The last picked up the lifeless cat as if it were no heavier than a feather and followed the others into the shadows.

[flubbergasted]

flaunt

- part 1 -

Shakey shugga shik shakka-lak. Throw dem feets up and dun look back.

Squash was having the time of its life. In its dream, it twirled and threw its arms into the sparkling darkness. Here it was king. The king of all dancers with wicked moves and smooth grooves. It was living it up for all to see.

Everything was beautiful in the psychedelic fragments of the night. Everything except the shadowy figure hiding in the corner of its eye, just out of sight. Squash twirled in vain, trying to catch the shadow in full gaze but it was impossible. And then, in the fullest swing of the music, the shadow stumbled forward - a shaggy horror warping the air and smothering Squash in its embrace.

Nooooooooo…

Squash cried in the ether of sleep.

- part 2 -

Squash was engulfed in a darkness blacker than black. But as suddenly as it had exploded, the darkness dissolved to reveal a glowing white space with blobs slowly coming into focus. There was nothing else, Squash was a mere spectator watching the vision unfold before it.

There lay an orange figure shivering and twitching on a raised block. That’s me, Squash thought,with the inner certainty of dreams. A second figure was watching intently, scribbling on a clipboard intermittently. This second figure nodded and said in a clear voice that rung like a bell, “Another month and it would reach peak power. But as His highness has decreed, it shall be. It is ready”

“Let the awakening commence”

The orange figure grew still. The light dimmed, shapes in the room blurring and swirling into each other and losing their outlines. All became one.

Squash opened its eyes.

[flubbergasted]

vissicitudes

His royal highness, Mosh first of his name, waddled softly towards the high-backed throne. It was padded in blue velvet, his most favourite colour since time immemorial. There was even a tassled little cushion, a gift from Snugamumphadaelis, royal being first of its name. It looked ever so soft and snuggable that Mosh waddled just a bit faster.

He sank into the throne chair gratefully, the weight of his stuffing lifted from his feet. Some had extra thick, shiny fluff. Others were blessed with flawless stitches. His royal Mosh had come into the world with an extra handful of stuffing. It was the great triumph of the kingdom that their ruler should be so bounteous in this regard. He settled in with a little puff of breath, stuffing remoulding to the chair.

Ping! He tumbled onto his knees, face wrinkled in pain. Eyes narrowed, he hissed:

"Sabotage"

And sure enough, a glint of gold was embedded in his royal posterior. He reached behind and plucked it out with one soft paw. A golden pin. There, engraved in flowing script on the glossy pin head: "With love, Snug"

"Throw out that cushion," he growled. "And put project Squash into motion"

"But your majesty, it's-it's not ready yet!" The chief attendant wrung her hands, "It's still in deep hibernation"

"It's been sleeping long enough," he said slowly, deliberately. With one last chilly stare at the weapon of sabotage, he brushed the dust from his front and waddled, menacingly, out of the hall, leaving the faintest trail of stuffing in his wake.

[flubbergasted]

posterior

Today was her day. Finally, she had been selected for the grand honour of cushioning his majesty's royal behind. Yes, it was a grand event indeed.

She, for it was a she although she could not explain why only to say that her molecules down to the corners of her silk casing felt a she-ness to the core, had been plumping and exuding a smooth cushability for many weeks and months now. The competition had been ferocious. A persian antiquated affair had been tassel-to-tassel in the scrabble up until the last moment, when the royal pooch had taken a sudden and misfortunate liking for it and had declared its ownership by way of a little piddle. The Persian had been thrown out the next day. So much the better for her.

So why was it, now that the moment had arrived, that she felt so.. She couldn't pin it down. It was a general dissatisfaction that niggled at her and refused to go away. And then there were the dreams, of a sharp knife tearing into soft soft.. Flesh. And then red seeping out of tissue. The very memory made her tremble and deflate. Memories absorbed from flesh and blood.

One strand of her top right tassel twitched. She smothered it immediately. Her greatest secret and shame, nobody could ever know, how one evening that single strand had been stained, irrevocably, with the blood of an innocent...

Pfffffffff. She breathed and puffed out, shrugging away the redundant feelings. Today was her day!

[flubbergasted]

ship

The rosy sky stretched as far as she could see in every direction. It was soft and dreamy and flecked with foamy white. To the right, an immense whale burst from the smooth glass sea - it’s body towering over the cruiser as if it were a toy boat. She gasped as the swells of displaced water rocked the boat causing the deck to tip dangerously to one side.

“Careful now miss, hold onto the railings here”

She clasped the railing for dear life and looked down at who had spoken: a petite girl with ribbons in her hair. She had an earnest, broad face and eyes that spoke of many lives lived.

“What is this place?”, she asked. Her mind felt as cottony as the clouds in the sky.

The other girl smiled gently, “First time? We are in the in-between. See that dark spot on the horizon? That is our destination - the gate to rebirth.”

She felt her mouth open and close noiselessly.

“Then I-I’m... I’m dead?”, the last word fell from her lips in a whisper.

“Yes. I am here with you, do not fear. The ship is running a smooth course. We will be arriving shortly”

She remembered now: there was the gala, the sparkling lights and beautiful women. She had been so excited, had spent weeks tailoring her suit. The handsome young man on stage - he’d made a scene. And then, the screaming. She had turned, turned to find-

She clutched her chest, gasping. Felt again the cold steel piercing her flesh. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, looked down into those calm, soulful eyes. They seemed to say, yes but you are safe now, I am here. The terror fled. She inhaled, deeply.

“But then, I suppose I won’t see Mama and Papa again. Nor Petey.” Her eyes teared up at the thought.

“You will not remember them in the next lifetime.”

She nodded and looked out beyond the mirror-like ocean. She could see them now, the jagged rocks looming ominously out of the water.

“Are you ready?”, her companion asked, voice grave and soft.

She nodded. In that moment, the rocks rushed at them and suddenly the ship was there, easing its way through the narrow pass between the treacherous stone pillars.

Who will I be in the next life?

Will I still be me? I don’t want to forget!

I am Laurie, 16. I like sweet cakes and swimming in the lake by the house in summer and getting a scolding from Leah for stealing food from the kitchen...

I am Laurie, I like sweet cakes and... I like swimming in the lake in summer. Stealing food from the kitchen. Leah scolding me...

I like sweet cakes. Stealing from the kitchen.

I am...

She opened her eyes to look up into the vast darkness glittering with stars. 

Who am I?

One by one the stars winked out. Darkness fell.

[flubbergasted]

toast

Three months earlier

“You crazy bean! That’s certain death, that is lad!”

The aged one stumped around the little cabin, his jaw working up and down on an invisible wad of gum. His eyes popped accusingly at Darcy reclining in the wicker chair, heavy black boots propped on the table. The younger man scowled but for a moment, rearranging his expression to an approximation of how he might look if he actually gave a damn.

“It’s only a small matter of dying my dearest. We all must in the end. Some of us, many times over”. He made a shoo shoo motion with his hand. “Just make sure the G&T is ready for when I return”

The old man muttered darkly, “One of these days…”

“What’s that you say, pearl of my heart?”

“Just sayin’, this scheme of yours is gonna set the whole bloody city on bloody fire”

“That’s the point”, Darcy smirked. He spun in his chair, his boots flying in an elegant arc to meet the floor with a thump. Suddenly his eyes were serious, “Again. Let’s go through it again: I raise my glass and then…”

The evening of

“…we celebrate the union of our darling Princess and Lord from afar, what a perfectly insipid couple these two make…”

Angry whispers blossom among the seated guests. A giggle is quickly hushed.

“…for we all know where our citizens’ hard earned money will be going: to fund a royal pleasure trip to some wretched paradise of indentured slaves…”

Darcy pauses, savouring the moment. He inhales deeply and beams at the full spread of upper crust society before him. Look at them, in their silly little frilly frocks. He has made some mortal enemies tonight. Not that it matters, they will all be dead shortly if everything goes accordingly. And he has made sure that this lot will not be reborn into power, no, let them enjoy the sour taste of poverty for a change. His lip curls in anticipation.

“And so, I raise my glass to you all. Bon voyage mes chéris”

A scream pierces the hall. It has begun.

[flubbergasted]

truffle

The sweet treat melted away in his mouth to leave a creamy, dark aftertaste. Slightly minty. He reached out for another, fingers smeared with fine cocoa. His lips dusted with the bitter powder. He licked them in anticipation.

[flubbergasted]

spriggan

“Breath of dusk and night of shade, I hereby summon thee - Spriggan!”

The last syllable came out in a high-pitched squeak. His sister scowled at him furiously.

“Rubbish! You’re doing it wrong idiot!”

“Hee-ey, I’m just reading what you wrote. Sprig-gan. Sprig-gan. What is that anyway?”

She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder in contempt and snatched the scrap of paper away.

“Of course you wouldn’t know. It’s a magical being, looks like a little man made of twigs knotted together. He’s supposed to be good luck. Duh”

“Like a brownie?”

“What? No! Just - oh, nevermind.”

She sighed wearily. Stupid little brothers. Always ruining everything.

[flubbergasted]

paper lantern

The sandy walls of the paper cocoon glowed softly, the warm light ebbing and pulsing ever so slowly. The room was alive with shadows. They stretched, distorted across the empty expanse, dancing on the walls to a silent tribal rhythm.

The pulse quickened, the shadows twitching madly back and forth. A streak of red glistened at the corner of the lantern, creeping across the scratchy paper. Smoke curled from the edge.

A flare burst out and the lantern was engulfed. The shadows were feeble in the sudden brightness. A flame sparked across the ground.

[flubbergasted]

sliced not chopped

Joy of joys; the apple was sliced, not chopped. There was such a vast difference between the two, and yet the majority of humans did not notice the difference let alone comprehend the enormity of the issue at hand. To be sliced - to have stackable layers of thin apple, easily consumed in delicate bites. Chopped on the other hand... ugly lumps that required much jaw work, often irregularly sized and overlarge. No - sliced was the only way to go.

[flubbergasted]

cold shower

She shuddered as cold water sprayed onto naked flesh.

Dammit. She should have checked before getting in but she was committed now. She grit her teeth. Come on. Come on. Please, just this once.

She was cold to the core. The run had been a hard slog in the snow, her trainers struggling for grip in the brown slush. But she had persevered with one thought on her mind: the steaming hot shower that awaited at the end.

Her skin felt rubbery, numb. The water had risen a few degrees, or was that wishful thinking? She was so cold she could hardly tell.

Fuuuuuuuuu-ahh!

She flicked the shower head away as scalding water shot out with no warning. Then, gradually, she eased the temperature down and slipped into blessed warmth. A single tear of joy escaped down her cheek.

[flubbergasted]

moonbow

whoooooooooooosh-

The arrow flies fast and true - thwack!

The target splits clean into two. A silver arc gleams in it’s wake.

The princess nods once, satisfied, then-

She whips to the right, a shadow blurring in the corner of her vision. Aim! Nock! And pull-

She lets loose one, two, three in rapid fire whilst twisting and leaping through the trees. Her clothes dance upon the wind, her feet tread the air.

She lands gently in the middle of the clearing, half-crouched, bow ready to draw. The dust settles around her. The air shimmers with the traces of her arrows.

Hairs on her neck stiffen as she feels the sudden presence of the shadow looming behind her. She turns to face the dreaded-

Mai what are you playing at, the shadow hisses. She hates its mocking, taunting smile.

“That’s Princess Mai, foul beast!”

Oh oh, moon princess, should I bow down and kiss your feet? It laughs, loud and hard in the stillness of the woods. You wish to be obeyed? You? A pretty brat who doesn’t know anything-

It twists the bow out of her hands and snaps it - tchhhhk! - neatly in half. She looks up, eyes tearing, at the one who has made her life a misery since she first came crying into the world.

“There’ll be no more of that now. Inside, now! Everyone is waiting for you”

She trails behind, clutching tightly the remains of her bow.

[flubbergasted]

nest

Pat pat. Something sharp and sticky. There, it’s gone now. Settle down again. Warm in fluff. Wind rushes outside, but here is a pocket of stillness. Snug. So snug. Waiting for mother, for food. Until then, sleep.