AbilitiesFeel GOOD!Words

Abstract

To me, using a mobile phone to take photographs allows me to experiment with totally different objects from a variety of different angles. I like getting in close, and trying to take an image through the object if possible. It isn’t the subject on the other side of the object that’s important, but how it appears through the object. Debbie’s One-Word photo challenge for this week is ‘Abstract’ (which I’m pleased to be re-joining after a couple of weeks away), and the following photos are all of the Living Room here in the Mansion, taken through a blue paperweight. I feel like I’m underwater when I look at them, surrounded by currents and bubbles, and yes, Whalesong… and being Piscean that feels very comfortable indeed (apart from the fact that in real life I don’t like being submerged in water – most abstract!)

BirdsFeel GOOD!NaturePeopleReal Life

Letters to the Universe… The New Theme Edition!

Dear Blogland,
Apologies are in order if you have seen any temporary posts appear and then disappear from little ol’ me… especially after me not posting anything for a few weeks; one knows how that feeling of dashed excited expectation feels. I want to return to full time blogging with a new look, so I’m experimenting with themes again. If there was only one, I wouldn’t need to, but there’s about fifteen thousand and three themes to choose from, with some not exactly having the features I think I’m looking for. I may have it with this one (but we shall see!)

Dear Short-sighted Drivers,
I think I must help you for when we are on the roads together. I’m going to change the colour of the back of my car to fluorescent reflective orange, so you will be able to see me from further back without your need to drive so close to my car you are practically on top of me. I saw three of you back to back to back behind a fourth car yesterday, so maybe you would all benefit from this idea as well.

Dear Short-tempered Drivers,
I think you all need to chill out a little. Hand gesturing through your front window will not make the road signs in a strange town any clearer, especially when they are covered by our gloriously green Summer leaves as well. If you are in such a hurry as to where you are going, may I suggest you set off a little earlier? And may I also suggest that you consider the fact that if you are already late, going any faster will not make you any earlier. Oh, and some of those gestures were impertinently rude. Tsk.

Dear The New Company That Has Taken Over The Running Of The Buxton Health And Healing Festival,
Thank you for your recent programme, however this year I’m, sadly, unable to attend. I think my name has been lost in translation during your changeover, which gave me a chuckle when I read the envelope. How you managed to change Tom to Lynn is a bit of a mystery, although you kind of managed to get my surname correct. The capital letter in the middle of it encouraged a different pronunciation, which I may stick with, should the need arise.

Dear Visitors To The Buxton Health And Healing Festival,
I wish you all a good time when you go – there seems to be a lot going on!

Dear United Kingdom Election,
Is that finally it? Are you done? Can we all settle down now? I know some will be offering in-depth analysis of what went right and wrong until the next election, comparing things to 1802 or the last election (which seems like last week). The stumpy pencil industry must now be quids in!

Dear Ducklet,
How cute you were earlier today, hastily swimming on the Lake to catch up with the rest of your clan. And you had me laughing when you got on top of the lily pads and started running. Still, any means to an end, I suppose!

Dear Open Live Writer,
I must say I’m liking this experience since I downloaded the new blogging theme to you. Text fills the screen magnificently, which is just how I’d like my posts to appear on the blog itself. Will things look like this? Possibly not, with the sidebar that’s there, but almost. Anything is better than the thin columns I had in the last theme I tried.

Dear Garlic Bread,
Thank you for making my breath smell so special. The taste of you far outweighs the reaction I occasionally get from others due to my pungent exhalations, so you are every bit worth the tiniest amount of effort required to eat you. One more slice? No, I coul… ah, go on then! See I cannot resist. 

Dear Weather,
Here’s hoping for a good weekend, weather-wise. Thank you for the rainbow segment yesterday, any chance of a fabulous and brilliantly bright one over the weekend? I haven’t seen a full one this year, so it would be most welcome.

And to finish… Dear All,
May you remember that being a part of the human race doesn’t mean that everything has to be done in such a rush. Sit back, chill out, and watch the world go by for a while. Your time is just as important as everybody else’s, so it’s important to notice it every now and then.

Thank you for reading!

P.S. Here’s a photograph of that ducklet I mentioned, just because:

…Just because it was so darned cute I couldn’t do anything else but share!

ConfusionFeel GOOD!Legends

Expanding Order

Once we have the nuns we can decide

The Plutonian Council shifted and shuffled nervously. It was the first time the council had met with the High Reverence herself, Amnarnun of Makemake, and her Sisters of the Dissolved Order.

The Order, clouded in mystery, as much if not more so than as anything else on the small crimson world, had decided decades ago to branch out more, and create greater ties with the other communities of the thousands of worlds that exist within the ‘Barrierlands’  (or Kuiper belt as it is known on Earth) and eventually try to reach out to the residents of Earth.

Pluto’s great Council had met delegates before from Makemake, but none as high profile and awesomely revered as the Frocked One.

She stood at the central lectern, hands gently clasped in front and head slightly bowed. plutoCen Kr’Dorir, dwarfed beside her, wasn’t sure if she was looking toward him, down upon him, or in prayer.

“Nun Child” she said, with all the grace one would imagine one with her stature to have.

“Ah, my humblest of apologies, Oh heavenly mistress…” grovelled plutoCen Kr’Dorir, “I’d forgotten about your ability of telepatheticness.”

The Plutonian Council coughed nervously, one member at the back audibly groaning.

“Eh?” The Frocked One looked momentarily confused, then blended effortlessly back into her calm demeanour. “No, plutoCen, I was asking for Nun Child to approach. Here she is now.”

Nun Child, Amnarnun’s niece, was in every way as serene as her aunt. She wore the Makemakean blue frock of life, which contrasted to Amnarnun’s black frock for everything. They both gently rustled as they moved, but apart from this gentle sound they moved otherwise silently and with ease, almost as if they were gliding across the floor.

plutoCen Kr’Dorir shook Nun Child’s hand, and said, as pleasantly as he could manage “A pleasure to meet you, as well as your mother.”

The Council breathed in audibly, with some physically cringing. plutoCen Kr’Dorir noticed and quickly attempted to correct his latest gaffe “and our mother, and everyone’s mother of the Barrierlands, the High Reverence herself.” He thought he’d pulled it off, and realised he still had a hold of Nun Child’s hand. Firmly. With a smile, he swiftly let go, and let out an extremely loud ‘harrrumph’ as he pretended to clear his throat. Nun Child looked at him with crystal clear blue eyes, and gently spoke.

“We today bring you gifts, friends and allies of Pluto. Gifts made from the imagined tears from the blessed angels; the ethereal strings from the harmonic harps; and the dreams and hopes of our people that we would like to share with you.

“We also come with an invitation for you to join our Serene Order, dissolved as it is, yet expanding into the vast Solar System.

“We bring a calming influence to fill your void of chaos and hypertension, and hope you will accept our heartfelt offer.”

“One moment please, your ladyness…” plutoCen Kr’Dorir marched over to the plutoCen Deputy panel, where the three High Leaders sat in whispered conference.

The Council looked on uneasily.

Amnarnun and Nun Child looked towards each other, waiting patiently for the reply.

They didn’t need to wait too long. plutoCen Kr’Dorir returned to the lectern, and said “It’s like this, your references. We aren’t really a serene race. We’re more of a rough sort, not quite barbaric but not very politically correct. Rough around the edges if you like. We don’t have many ‘orders’ or anything like that here on Pluto, but we are always open to change. All we can say now is once we have the nuns we can decide whether to join your order. We’ll be in touch. Keep your pathetic lines open. Telepathetic lines. Keep them open. And we’ll let you know.”

Amnarnun and Nun Child both graciously accepted plutoCen Kr’Dorir’s hand once more, graciously bowed, and graciously made their effortless way out of the Council Chamber.

Amnarnun gently tapped Nun Child’s arm as they reached the door. Sometimes you can not reason with barbarians, she thought. But we’ve planted the seed.

Agreed, Aunt. Nun Child replied.

A slight smile crept across both of their faces as the cold iron doors slammed shut behind them.


This post has been written in response to a flash fiction challenge by Diane Henders.

Some of the characters in this otherworldly tale first appeared in this post.