#ancient tome for you Meg

[beautifulpaxielreads]

March Wrap Up

Books Completed (ratings out of five stars)

Earth to Charlie by Justin Olson (begun in February, ★★★)

The boy in the red dress by Kristin Lambert (★★★★)

Mermaid moon by Susann Cokal (★★★1/2)

As you wish: inconceivable tales from the making of The Princess Bride by Cary Elwes, Joe Layden, foreword by Rob Reiner (★★★)

Sisters of sword and song by Rebecca Ross (★★★1/2)

Double down (Diary of a wimpy kid #11) by Jeff Kinney (★★★)

Books currently in progress

Crown of feathers (Crown of feathers #1) by Nicki Pau Preto

Waer by Meg Caddy*

· Heartstopper: volume two (Heartstopper #2) by Alice Oseman

· The boy from the mish by Gary Lonesborough*

*Australian author

Reflections on March and Goals for April

I read six books this month. I seem to average between 5 and 7 books in a good month, according to my Storygraph stats, which I think is a handy thing to know in terms of achieving my yearly reading goals.

Favourite books this month were Sisters of sword and song (novel written in a mythical style, set in fantasy world resembling Ancient Greece) and Mermaid moon (feminist Little Mermaid retelling). I also enjoyed The boy in the red dress (murder mystery set in 1920s New Orleans), although I will admit I don’t remember much about it now despite giving it four stars! Oops.

I said in my February wrap-up that I wanted to read more Australian authors – looking over the books I read this month, I didn’t seem to achieve that. But as you will see from my “currently in progress” list, I have books there by two Australian authors, Meg Caddy and Gary Lonesborough, so hopefully I will be able to finish those in April. I have some great-looking books on my physical TBR by Aussie authors so hopefully I’ll be able to get to them soonish too.

Speaking of my physical TBR, I’ve got a lot of books still to go. I try and mix them up with library books as well, because every time I visit to pick up a reserve, I end up picking more. There are so MANY books I want to read and there’s just not enough time. I have some rereads I want to do too, but I think I’ll leave them for a later date. Again, no time.

I’m still working my way through Crown of Feathers, it’s taken me nearly two months to read it, but I’m over 300 pages (out of near-500) in now so I have a good feeling I’ll finish it by month’s end. Speaking of hefty tomes, I DNF’d Caesar’s women (Colleen McCullough) because I was just not in the mood for it. I may pick it up later, though – we’ll see.

I want to do more book photography this month, because there’s so many books I have that I feel Booklr is sleeping on. Looking forward to getting stuck into some of the challenge prompts!

That’s a wrap for this month. As always, stay safe and well, and I’ll see you in May for my April wrap-up. Until then, happy reading!

#beautifulpaxiel reads #monthly wrap ups #mine #march

[itslaurenmae]

the sun the moon the truth

1222 words, Rated T for canon-typical violence, language

Read on ao3 here.

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, the truth.

Bleeding out on the ground, Hamish remembered the first time he read those words in a very old book back in England as he was being educated at boarding school. 

He’d been a boy of thirteen, and the book certainly hadn’t been intended for the pupils like him to read, but it hadn’t been locked up or hidden away and was sitting open in Master Leonard’s study. While Hamish waited for his instructor to return and begin their French lesson, he’d taken the book into his hungry hands, run his fingers over the yellowed pages, feasted on the small, inky words on the page. There were other sayings, too, but that one caught his eye and arrested his attention and etched its way into his memory, latched itself into his mind and onto his heart, the way the Bible said Scripture was supposed to - and there they stayed.

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, the truth.

These were not the words of the Christian faith, ancient or current. They weren’t the words of Catholics or Protestants or Cathars or Anabaptists. They weren’t white men’s words, they weren’t from the Q’aran or the Torah or any of the other religious texts he’d seen, but they struck Hamish Goames just the same.

No, these words came from some other system, from another way of believing, and in them, something profound resonated.

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, the truth.

He’d always remembered those words, still found them making their way into the margins of his notes for the Company - notes he’d tear out and put aside for himself in another book. Or burn. Notes no one should see.

.

One time, Yvon did see.

“Where did you find those words, Hamish?”

“In a very old book.”

“It’s no poetry I’ve ever seen.”

“It is not,” Hamish replied, grinning slyly. It was not often that he was familiar with words that Yvon was not already familiar with. His old friend was the most well-read man Hamish had ever known, exempting only his own instructor back in England.

“Where are they from?”

“The Buddha.”

“The Buddha?” Yvon smiled. “I didn’t know you’d studied the Eastern religions.”

“I didn’t,” Hamish responded. “Not in any great depth, anyway. I found it, in a tome I wasn’t supposed to be reading. When I was a boy.”

“Always curious.”

“Yes, Yvon. I saw it on a table, while waiting for the headmaster to return. I don’t think I was meant to be looking, but my curiosity - ”

“It always gets the better of you,” Yvon completed the thought.

“It does.”

“I like it,” Yvon said.

“I do, too.”

This was an acceptable thing for Hamish to admit to Yvon now, years after he’d first seen those words, away from the strict tutelage of his instructors and the clucking disapproval of his sister. She’d never heard him utter the words, but Alice was very devout, and Hamish knew she wouldn’t like it.

.

He hadn’t considered himself much of a Christian for some time now. Even bleeding out in the woods in the cold, hard sun, he didn’t find himself thinking about the benedictions or creeds he’d memorized. The words of the Bible didn’t affect him the way they used to, if they ever had - save for a few passages in Psalms and Ecclesiastes. But that phrase, those words - they stuck even after all these years.

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.

He saw them in his mind’s eye, pictured his dirty hands scribbling them one more time into his overlarge leatherbound field journal. Sometimes, when he wrote, it was just those words - the sun, the moon the truth - sometimes it was just “cannot be long hidden” - but the phrase crept its way into his mind, into his hands, onto his words on the page.

The bullet had entered his chest somewhere. It missed his heart directly, so he was able to continue drawing on the words that had inscribed themselves there. Every breath, every thought a beat of his heart, every inhale a reminder.

On the ship from England to New France, when he woke up from an uneasy sleep. Alice’s voice. “It is not long until the morning now.”

The sun.

In the woods, Randall Cross bleeding out at his feet.

The moon.

“Who do you serve, Mr. Goames?” Bouchard asked.

The truth.

We are all animals.

It cannot be long hidden.

.

He closes his eyes and tries to focus on more specific times those words were true, drawing in a painful lungful of air. Is that what the bullet had pierced, his lung? He couldn’t be sure.

He crawls away from Ratasenthos, tries to focus on making distance, spits leaves and dirt away. Closes his eyes, thinks about…

How those were the words that came to him to after he finds the girl Renardette in the woods. She can’t or doesn’t want to speak, and that’s okay, because those words are true. Three things cannot be long hidden …. She can have all the time she needs. Hamish is not in a hurry.

They’re the words he thought as he and Yvon left the company’s office in Quebec City on their way back to Wobik. He doesn’t like this, doesn’t like the man Cooke he’s supposed to be working alongside, doesn’t like that he didn’t know where his brother in law had fucked off to. But the words remain. It cannot be long hidden.

He thought the words as he held Cross’s body to himself and drove the knife into his gut. Hamish had seen, and in the light of the moon, he’d been reborn.

The sun, the moon, the truth. It cannot be long hidden.

.

Ratasenthos has him on his back now, and he’s going to deliver the killing blow at any moment. Hamish lifts those words up in a silent prayer, to whatever is waiting for him on the other side of his consciousness. This is the end, and he is dying. Maybe one day, truth about him will be uncovered. He closes his eyes and surrenders.

It might be the next breath, it might be the next heartbeat, the new gush of blood ebbing out of his broken veins, the flow of his thoughts red and running and then...

Renardette standing over him, the sun behind her, knowing that at any moment he would bleed out onto the forest floor. Ratasenthos falling away from him due to her stab to his neck, and the blood, so much blood. She smiled. It was dawn, it was dusk. Thesunthemoonthetruth - they all blended together then, a confluence of things he could not hide from anymore.

Yes, he was dying. Yes, he wasn’t wholly human anymore. And yes, this was the way things were meant to be. Him and her and in the woods and blood, so much blood. Pro pelle cutem, a skin for a skin, a life for a life, a debt is repaid. And as his human body healed itself and his skin changed, the howl from deep within leaving his lungs in an involuntary release, he remembered them again. The sun, the moon, the truth. An anchor.

It cannot be long hidden.

Thank you for reading this piece. It's largely headcanon and a bit meandering on purpose.

I first became familiar with the saying "Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, the truth" when I watched Teen Wolf back in 2016. Some of the characters adopt it as an anchor, a motto that keeps them from shifting at inopportune times. I took the idea of having an anchor and kind of shifted it around here - what if someone used those words not as an anchor to staying human, but as a mantra to pass from one form to another? What if it was something Hamish had repeated to himself in the past, and maybe didn't know yet that it was keeping the creature at bay, and that thinking it as he's dying makes it an admonishment, an atonement, a releasing of who he once was and allowing himself to be the animal inside?

As always, thanks to Meg aka @jeynepoole​ for this screencap, feedback, and forever engaging with me in my headcanons.

I can't stop thinking about this show and these characters. Truly was my favorite from 2020.

#barkskins #hamish goames #my writing #blood cw

[phantoonsoftheopera]

Review: "The Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge" or: "I was a Teenage Phantom"

So it has come to my attention that there are some in the Phandom who may not be aware of some of the, let us say, more obscure Phantom adaptations there have been through the years. Well, as one of the dinosaurs of the Phandom, I cannot let this stand. So gather around, children, while I drag out this ancient tome I wrote a few decades ago about the cinematic masterpiece, “The Phantom of the Mall.”

(Oh, but let it be known that this is a review of the broadcast version of the movie, which included scenes not included in the theatrical cut. Because I have both versions. Yes. I have BOTH VERSIONS.)

Note: This review is written with tongue firmly implanted in cheek. No offense is meant to the fans of the movie -- either one of you ;-)

This past weekend, I was cataloging the various Phantom items I have collected over the years when I came across a long-forgotten recording of that late 80s cinematic extravaganza: "The Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge." I immediately popped it into my VCR and sat transfixed by this lost gem. And being the gracious fellow that I am, I felt compelled to share my thoughts with those of you who had the great misfortune of missing its original limited theatrical engagement (pulled from theaters a week after its release -- it was obviously ahead of its time).

Directed by Richard Friedman, auteur of such films as "Scared Stiff" and "Doom Asylum," this 1989 epic featured such master thespians as Pauly Shore ("Bio-Dome"), Rob Estes ("Suddenly Susan") and screen legend Morgan Fairchild ("Test Tube Teens from the Year 2000"). My only regret is that Vanilla Ice had yet to emerge onto the public scene in order to claim the title role. A role which, I'm sure you all would agree, would have secured his name in the annals of film history.

But I digress.

Its cinematography surpassed that of "Citizen Kane," and the acting (as you can surely tell by the few actors I've already named) rivaled that displayed in Kenneth Branagh's "Hamlet." And the music? Ah, the music... But enough gushing, let me enthrall you with the details.

The screenwriters did a masterful job updating the classic tale for modern times. Replacing the Opera House with a mall? What brilliance! Brian de Palma was on the right track when he set his "Phantom of the Paradise" in a discotheque, but it lacked the symbolism and dramatic possibilities that a shopping mall provides (just thinking about the tense scenes filmed in the Windsor Fashions and Sam Goody stores makes my heart race!)

While I'm sure you'd all want me to go into a scene-by-scene description and analysis, it would be want of me to rob you of the pleasure of the thrills and surprises it contains. Therefore, I shall only give you a brief rundown of the plot and describe a few key scenes which make this a standout among "Phantom" films.

The film involves the grand opening of the Midwood Mall, built atop a former residential area. Eric ("Erik," as portrayed by Derek Rydall) has been dead for a year, and his girlfriend Melody ("Christine," played by Kimber Sissons) and their friends Buzz ("The Persian," played by Pauly Shore) and Suzi ("Meg," played by Kari Whitman) all get jobs there. At the big press event opening the establishment, Melody catches the eye of a photojournalist named Peter ("Raoul," played by Rob Estes). It turns out that they met the year prior: they were both at the scene when her boyfriend's house burned to the ground, making the way for the mall developers to begin construction. Eric had helped Melody escape but was apparently burned to death in the conflagration. Melody believes it was arson (perhaps it was the strange man dousing her with gasoline prior to the firemen arriving that raised her suspicions) and Peter promises to help her solve the mystery. Little does she know that a masked figure in ball cap and varsity jacket watches her every move from the security monitors in the batcave -- excuse me -- the lair...

It is a staple of all "Phantom" films to have an unmasking scene, and this movie delivers in a clever update. After rescuing Melody from the arsonist who has taken a position as a security guard, Eric takes her to his lair in the catacombs beneath the mall. She awakens on his leather sofa and sees her savior doing pulldowns on his weight machine nearby. She slowly walks up behind him, but no, she doesn't rip his mask off to reveal his charred face as you would suspect. Melody instead simply says, "Hello Eric." He then obliges her by removing the mask himself. She shows no fear in seeing him unmasked but once he shows her the department store wardrobe that he has picked out for her, Melody suddenly remembers she has a life and a handsome new boyfriend aboveground, which rouses Eric's anger. Ah, cinema at its best.

But for me, the best acting in the film came in a touching scene involving Suzi and Buzz. In it, Suzi laments over her lack of companionship while Buzz attempts to console her. Here is an excerpt from the script:

Suzi: "How come all the girls who don't want a boyfriend get one and the girls who do, don't, huh?"

Buzz (reassuringly): "Lots of guys like you, Suzi."

Suzi (dramatic pause): "Not the ones that really matter."

Buzz gestures to himself and smiles.

Suzi: "I mean, what would this world be if all the people who wanted to buy cars couldn't, and the ones that could had them given to them?"

Buzz: "That would be pretty kinda like, messed up, huh?"

Surely, even Sir Laurence Olivier could not have given a more inspired performance!

Finally, let me address, briefly, the music. No expense was spared to gather the finest of 80s hair bands to perform on the soundtrack. Yet they were all eclipsed by the stunning rock and roll anthem, "Is There a Phantom in the Mall?" by The Vandals. As hummable as anything Lord Lloyd Webber has written, it made its debut during a party scene and later was reprised over the closing credits. Sadly, through the fault of the studio hierarchy, no soundtrack was officially released for the fans to treasure. But now, I share with you some of the lyrics:

chorus: Is there a Phantom in the Mall? folks are bound to ask Is he the Phantom of the Mall? Or just some retard in a broken hockey mask?

Clearly, even with those few lines, the brilliance of the songwriters shines through!

It is a crime that the dilletantes at the AFI neglected to include this masterpiece in their top 100 films of the century. "Lawrence of Arabia"? "Gone with the Wind"? "Casablanca"? Pshaw! Robert Friedman's "Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge"! Now there is a landmark -- nay, epochal -- cinematic masterpiece!

#Phantom of the Opera #Phantom of the Mall #phantom movies

[bells-of-black-sunday]

can you give an overview of dbd lore? sorry it gets hard trying to follow your threads

//No need to apologize! I’ll go over the important non-killer and non-survivor specific things below-

But you can read more in depth by going to the archives here [link] and just reading through them. There’s a lot nd hey only get longer, so don’t feel obligated to read them all. I’m also going to put numbers next to important bits so you at least know where everything comes from

So in d.ead by d.aylights world, there is a god called the Entity, it has no real name that’s been said so far, but it’s a god of chaos that feeds off of either just specifically fear or all strong emotions. (1) The entity swallows entire worlds in it’s influence creates pockets in those spheres of influence called the overlap, the over lap is where we get our survivors from. People who travel to these places the entity has influence over and swallows them inside of it. (2) 

The Black Veil is a cult that can summon in the sphere’s of influence and have been active as far back as medieval France. (3) There’s also an underground society dedicated to stopping the Black Veil and the Entity itself. (4) The Entity takes the form of a spider, though no one knows for certain and it runs these games called trials. Trials take place in realms chosen by the entity, 4 survivors being hunted down by 1 killer (5) Killers are usually shown in their archives how they were influenced by the entity itself into committing the acts that allowed the overlap to happen in the areas the Entity manifests itself in. (6) Killer’s are either pulled willingly or are tortured into doing the things they do. (7) Survivors usually have encountered the entity in some way or another or would’ve died if they didn’t get pulled. (8) 

Survivors have to try and escape the trial by powering 5 generators before they’re caught and sacrificed to the entity in a variety of ways. Each realm is taken from a killer’s memories, that’s why H.addonfield looks so run down and empty as well as the resort being the L.egion’s home (9) Every time a survivor dies a little piece of them is missing and once the entity has everything it can from one person, it tosses them into the void where they’re still alive, but not really living. 

That’s why there’s killers from as far back as a Babylon and no ancient survivors. (10) Survivors can interact and build bonds, though there hasn’t been much evidence of them interacting with killer outside of trial. (11)

That’s the utter basics, you can of course find out more through the archives and journals, but that’s the utter basics. Of course I diverge from canon to just be able to interact with people, but I’ll probably make a separate post from that because it’s vaguely important.

Sources so you can easily read more:

(1) Benedict's journals imply it’s all strong emotion, but no one can say for certain. Also the observer calls it a god of evil and chaos.

(2) Clown’s and Bill’s observer entries + Realm lore

(3) Elodie, Artist, and Twins

(4) Felix and Elodie 

(5) The trial page is extremely outdated on the wiki, but trials are explain in Benedict's journals and also across the observer tomes.

(6) I think the Legion’s archives are perfect example, as well as the Artist. Crow’s aren’t really a thing in C.hile as far as I’ve read, so Carmina having crows constantly around her is a sign of it’s influence. 

(7) G.hostface (also check his chapter page because that’s where his actual lore is) is a prime example of someone going willingly and also Benedict's journals. Pretty much of a killer doesn’t have any physical deformities they went willingly (M.yers, G.hostface, L.egion, P.ig, etc.) and if they do they were tortured to be there (S.pirit, N.urse, T.rapper, W.raith, etc.)

(8) Kate and Meg are two prime examples of people encountering the entity before being pulled. Adam and Bill also being prime examples of would have died if they weren’t pulled in.

(9) Mentioned in a dev q&a before the T.wins were released because that’s when I joined and I watched that live stream for my friends.

(10) dev q&as, also first few tomes

(11) Benedict's journals

#ooc #/muns d.bd #I might also just link it on my muse page because d.bd lore is very scattered and ahrd to follow

[denial-island-spn]

*Midday, admin island*

*Suzy sits at her computer, frantically working the final translations that she found.  The ancient tomes sit to one side of the table, forgotten for now; they have served their purpose.  Suzy reminds herself to give them back to Cas.  As much as she likes and respects Rowena, Gabe is right; these books cannot be allowed to be used for purposes unknown by anyone else.  She’s been working all night and all of today, so far. Rowena’s words still reverberating in her head, she’s determined to find the answers as soon as possible so that Megs and (human) Gabe can return.  She wonders if they’re alright; how far did they have to go to escape the magic.  Rowena said part of it was still there, on the island; Suzy knows, she still feels it, and she’s worried how it will affect everyone else. {Megs tasked me with watching over everyone and keeping them safe, I’ll do that no matter what it takes} When they left Rowena’s cabin last night, she couldn’t stand to be around anyone, so she left Krys and Gabe to their own devices and took one of the boats back to admin island.  She thought the longer ride would help calm her racing heart and clear her head, and it did, until she stepped off the boat at the dock.  Seeing a light in Krys’ window, she was satisfied that maybe Krys would get some much needed sleep.  She herself had work to do, and she hurried past to her own cabin, where she placed warding so that she wouldn’t be disturbed.*  {I know Gabe will show up eventually to check on me; I don’t need concern, pity, or anything else right now.  I need to solve this before I go insane}

*Putting on a fresh pot of coffee {Is this my third or fourth?}, she begins to transcribe her final pages of notes, using both Latin and English, though the way her head feels, it might as well be Swahili for all she can keep it straight.  She feels it before she hears a noise at the door; and then comes the knock.*

Krys: Suzy? It’s me. let me in, please. I know you’re there, and you’ve most likely been working all night again.

*With a sigh, Suzy goes to the door and unlocks it.  Backing up, she ushers Krys into the room.  Eyes roving around, Krys takes in the piles of books, papers and general mess.*

Krys: I was right; you haven’t slept at all, have you?* She sets down a large bag on the counter and begins taking out assorted salad makings(she knows Suzy prefers salad when she’s stressed) *  You are going to eat, you hear me?  Then you’re going to take a nap.

Suzy:*Groans and hides her face in her hands.  She had locked the door to prevent just this kind of thing; she knows Krys means well, but she’s in no mood for company.  She just wants to get this done so she can work out how to deactivate the “karma” magic(grimaces at the inadequate description) so that it doesn’t affect the other island or its residents.  She thinks back to her -almost- slip last night.  She needs to find Death, since he has both the ability to nullify the magic and to help bring the sojourners home.  She wonders if Rowena is doing this because she truly wants to help, or if it’s purely self interest that motivates her actions.  She knows that if she provided all of the translations to her that Gabe would be more than a little pissed; she doesn’t want to risk his ire; nor does she want to give Rowena possible ammunition to use against anyone in the future. The simple fact that she was able to read the texts without any assistance(she neglected to mention this to anyone, including Gabe because she still didn’t know how she was able to do it, nor did she fully understand the significance of that ability) meant that there was something else going on; she just couldn’t put her finger on it.  {Only prophets can do things like this, and I know I’m not that} What did it all mean, both for her and for everyone else.?

There!*Krys sets a bowl of -what is all that? Salad? in front of Suzy. She then pushes all of the papers and laptop away from Suzy* Eat! Unless you want me to force feed you.

Suzy:*smiles indulgently* Fine, mom. But then will you let me finish this stuff?  I’m almost done.

Krys: Only if you promise to sleep afterward.  You’re no good to anyone if you’re dead, you know.*Her joke hits its mark: Suzy gives in, reaching for the salad.* Now I can give Gabe at least one piece of good news.  He was worried last night when you took off without waiting for us, and then you not only locked us out, but put up that warding.  He was tempted to kick in the door last night just to see if you were ok; I convinced him you just needed time alone.

Suzy: Thanks for that.  I did.

[hypnopumwrites]

Unexpected Meeting

They were at Megan’s friend’s house. He was just gone to the loo, but then would come back to do this dream interpreting thing. The silence was uncomfortable for Jess, as she on an old moth eaten armchair, her arms and legs tucked together, not wanting to touch anything. She hated meeting new people, and this Jake guy seemed a little bit uncomfortable to be around. Still. Meg vouched for him, so he probably wasn’t all that bad.

She turned her head s the door opened, to reveal the tousled hair, and bad dress sense of – Peter? What? He looked equally surprised to see her.

“Hey, Jess, what’re you doing here? Unless you’re here to see me?”

Jess shrugged, half-heartedly “Sorry Pete. Didn’t know you lived here! Meg’s brought me here for Jake to do a dream interpretation.” Meg looked up from the book she had been reading at that, putting the thick black bound tome back on the shelf.

“Sorry, I was… In another world.” She waved her hand, then stopped, and brought it back down, nervously. “Jake never mentioned that he had a housemate. Though I guess you’re his gaming friend ‘Pete’ that he goes on about?”

“That’d be me, yeah. Oh, I didn’t get the chance to ask the other night. How did you two meet?”

Jess and Meg shared a look, Meg looked troubled, but Jess knew Peter enough to know that this was genuine curiosity. “Well, we met properly about a week before Christmas, right babe? Before that I’d bumped into her once before. The second meeting felt like less of a coincidence, and we got talking.”

Peter smiled; his curiosity evidently sated. “Huh, well, that’s nice for you both. Look, when Jake comes back, tell him I’ve popped out to the shops and to text me anything he wants.”

A few minutes passed, Jess, feeling more relaxed, took the chance to look at the books on the shelves of the room. They ranged in topics, all fantastical in nature. Dream interpretation, healing properties of crystals, even a few on magic. Meg had gone back to the big black book she was perusing earlier, and Jess took a glance at the page.

It was indecipherable. The text wasn’t even in the correct alphabet, let alone in English. She gently brushed a hand on Meg’s shoulder. “Woah, you can read that?”

Meg looked up, startled, and snapped the book shut. “Oh. Yeah! Yeah. I took a few modules on ancient languages at uni. This just happens to be one of them.”

“Oh right, what language is- ”

“Sanskrit.”

“Right. Well, that’s cool.” Jess left it alone, Meg had the right to keep things private if she wanted, and if she wanted to read Sanskrit texts as a private thing, then she could.

After a couple more minutes, Jake came back, with an almost theatrical air, he held up a hand, dramatically. “Hello, and welcome. Are you ready to embrace the teachings of Of’thilnet and expand the capabilities of your dreaming self? To grow your awareness of what the mind can do, and to let the realms of your possibilities flourish?” He finished by holding out his hand towards Jess.

Jess looked at Meg, struggling to contain her laughter. Meg was looking a little shocked and shook her head at Jake. “No, Jake. As I said in my text, Jess just had a weird dream that we’d like you to interpret.”

Jake seemed to deflate a little. He sighed, then, in a much less theatrical manner, took a seat, and looked at Jess. “Oh, right. Okay then! Describe the dream for me, in as much detail as you could, please.”

And Jess did. She described the instrument, how playing it made her feel, her standing atop the mountain, and then it breaking, just as the feelings of power began to come together. Jake took notes through it all, nodding, but not saying anything.

Once she was done, he continued writing, until finally, he settled his pen down, and looked her dead in the eyes. “Who else have you told about this dream?”

“Erm. Just, just Meg? Yeah. Just Meg.”

“Was it just you on the mountain. Did you see anyone else? Think carefully.”

Jess thought, she didn’t remember seeing any-wait. No. Now she thought about it, there had been a face, she thought it had been a trick in the snow, but it had been a face, a wrinkled old man, blind in one eye. She told Jake, who nodded, and wrote it down. “Do you know the man?” Jess shook her head. “I see. And the instrument. Had you seen that before?”

“Yes, me and Meg found it that day, in a field.”

“Does it give the same feelings when played in real life?”

Jess stopped, and looked at Meg, who had her mouth open, like she was about to speak, they shared a look, Meg shrugged at Jess, and said what they had kept secret from one another. “It made me feel, not powerful, but different emotions, depending on what notes Jess played.”

Jess nodded, surprised. She thought it had just been her feeling the music. “I… I think it was working on me too. Making me feel things. I just thought it was me really getting into playing.”

Jake held up a hand, he was clearly excited. “No! No, this sounds like something else. It sounds like the flute, or, instrument, is affecting people’s emotions when they hear it played. Also, and I know this sounds out there, even for me, talking about dream interpretations and instruments that can change people’s emotions. But I think that you were up there, atop the mountain that night. You should try and find the old man. He might know more. In the meantime. I’m going to go and do some reading. See if I can find out about a flute controlling emotions. Meg, I’ll text you when I know more. And if you’d be so kind as to fill me in when you find the man, or if you remember anything else, please, do.”

Five minutes later, they were outside, and Jess was trying not to laugh. “A flute controlling emotions? Biggest load of rubbish I’ve ever heard.” Meg seemed a bit far away. “Babe, come on. You don’t believe him do you?” She didn’t meet Jess’ gaze. “Wait, do you?”

Finally, Meg spoke. “I don’t know. I know it’s a lot to accept. But I can’t deny how I felt. My emotions changed as you played the flute, and they stopped when you stopped. Maybe… Maybe we could test it? When we get back? If you do, and nothing happens, then I’ll accept that it’s a load of rubbish.”

Jess acquiesced. She knew enough about Meg that it was the only way she’d accept it, and it felt like a good enough compromise. Still. It was stupid. It couldn’t be true. Could it?

#Writenow #January2020 #Writing #Unexpected meeting