CHALLENGE#34 for the week of 09-23-01
TRIO CHALLENGE: - bar of soap, wine bottle, latch-key
QUOTE 1: "Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame. " - Benjamin Franklin
QUOTE 2: "Follow your own heart, not others."- Anonymous
QUOTE 3: "The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it." -Moliere
AUTHORS: Cecilia, Jim, Lisa, Maril, Paula, Rodlox
By Cecilia
ccadams@optonline.net
DISCLAIMERS: They still aren't mine. Fireworks owns them.
RATING: PG (for peeking)
TRIO CHALLENGE 34: a bar of soap, a wine bottle, a latch-key
~~~~~
Feeling a weariness that went all the way to his bones, Dr. Robert Helm closed the door on the last of his patients with a sigh. On days like this, the number of sick and injured seemed to increase in direct proportion to how tired he felt. Today's patient load had been constant and heavy. Consequently, he had worked well into the evening.
He began clearing away the accumulation of debris, sorting what would be cleaned and reused from what would be disposed of. At times like this, he missed the niceties that came with a successful practice at home. Just having an assistant to take some of the unskilled work off his hands would be a blessing.
Sure, and why don't you wish for a nice, well-equipped hospital nearby while you're at it? He smiled ruefully as he took the trash out. At least Montoya had someone come by to remove the trash for him. A small blessing, but he was clinging to anything positive.
Stepping back into the room, he regarded the door critically. When he had first arrived in town, the door had only a simple latch. Anyone with a latch-key could get in. Montoya aside, the people of Santa Helena were not very concerned about security. Perhaps it was because, again excepting Montoya, they had little to steal. Recently, one of his patients who had a fair hand at carpentry had installed a bar on the door. Noting the craftsmanship evident in the work, Helm slid the bar in place, hopefully guaranteeing that no one would be able to drop in on him unannounced.
He had partially filled the tub earlier. Now, he added the water that had been heating on the stove. He wanted the bath as hot as he could make it, his muscles were crying out for a nice hot soak.
He removed his clothes, looking over each piece in dismay. His shirt sleeves bore bloody testament to the brutality of the day. He didn't know if the stains would ever come out. He was glad he had removed his vest early on. His pants had fared only slightly better than his shirt. His laundress would have her work cut out for her with this lot. He tossed the clothes carelessly over a chair.
He moved a small table next to the tub. Once he got in, he was planning on staying until the water became cold. Everything he might need had been placed in easy reach on the table: the bottle of good wine his mother had sent for Christmas, a glass already half full of the dark red liquid, a copy of the Odyssey, a pale green bar of soap, and his washcloth.
He threw his towel on a nearby chair and stepped into the tub. He lowered his lean form gingerly into the steaming water. He leaned back with a sigh and slid down until the water reached his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he tried to force his mind to relax. The hot water began to work its magic, and the knots in his muscles began to ease. He leaned his head far to one side and then the other, stretching out his neck. Sitting up, he grabbed the washcloth from the table and dried his hands. He settled back in the tub with his arms resting along the sides. His book was in one hand, and his glass in the other.
~~~~~
She stood in the shadows, watching. She knew he was unaware that she was there. Studying his face, she realized how different it was when he was alone, how unguarded. Why does he feel the need to hide himself away from everyone?
He had already been in the tub when she arrived. Part of her was grateful that the body haunting her dreams was safely submerged and hidden from view; another part of her registered keen disappointment. She hesitated, unsure whether to slip away silently or stay and watch. Tessa would have fled, embarrassed, as soon as she knew he was undressed. But, tonight I am the Queen and the Queen is...intrigued.
He appeared to be lost in his book. She watched the expressions play across his face as he read. She saw a touch of sadness, or maybe it was longing, and he closed the book with a sigh and set it back on the table. He took a large swallow from his glass and leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed. She ached to put her arms around him and comfort him, but that was out of the question.
She decided on the next best thing. If she couldn't comfort him, the least she could do was distract him. She slipped soundlessly to the stove and grabbed the kettle heating there. She walked to the tub and began pouring.
His eyes flew open and near panic showed on his face. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded as he tried to cover as much of himself as possible with the washcloth.
"Heating up your water," she answered smiling.
He didn't smile back. "How did you get in? The door was barred!"
Her smile didn't waver. "I came in through the window. I'm sorry if I caught you at a bad time." Her tone indicated that she wasn't the least bit sorry.
For a second, she thought he might lose his temper, but he took a deep breath and let his head slide back against the edge of the tub. "What is it about this place," he asked "that causes everyone to lose the ability to knock and makes women flock to my tub?" His voice was resigned but there was an undertone that sounded suspiciously like amusement.
Women?!? "Women?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Her voice took on a teasing tone, "Why, Doctor, I do believe you're blushing! Tell me about the women joining you in the tub."
"Only one other woman joined me. Not in the tub; outside of it. I was in the tub; she was sitting about where you are. Kami, I mean."
She decided that he was adorable when he babbled. "I hope you had your washcloth handy. I wonder why Kami would do such a thing? It doesn't sound at all like her to barge in on a man, uninvited. She's so polite."
"I certainly hope you don't think I invited her in," he sputtered indignantly. "She came to apologize for hurting me. She stayed to ask me questions about where to find you. It probably didn't occur to her that I would object. In her country, it is common for men and women to bathe together."
"Indeed! How...interesting." Her voice dropped on the last word until it was nearly a purr. She almost laughed as she saw him try and suppress a shiver. This was so much fun! She felt bold, almost brazen, secure in having the upper hand. As long as he was in the tub, she had control of the situation. She didn't have to worry about things getting out of hand.
She moved behind him. She knelt down and said softly, "What else did she do, Doctor?"
"She demonstrated a Japanese healing art and fixed my shoulder. The pain was gone, then so was she. Why? Are you jealous?"
"Maybe," she whispered next to his ear. She was rewarded with another shiver. "Do you want me to be?"
"Maybe," he said.
It was her turn to shiver. While trying to think of a light comeback, she let her eyes wander to his neck and shoulders. She was appalled by the tension she saw there. All thoughts of playing games left her and she slipped off her gloves. He started slightly as her hand touched his shoulder and turned to her with a question in his eyes.
"You are all tied up in knots, Doctor," she said. All trace of teasing was gone from her voice. "I think you've been working too hard. Let me help you. I know what to do. Please?"
He looked into her eyes for what seemed like a very long time, as if he was searching for his answer there. She tried to let her only her concern show. She wasn't sure what he saw there, but it must have reassured him because he finally nodded his consent.
He leaned forward and she began to knead the muscles in his neck and shoulders. Her motions were hesitant at first, but she gained confidence as she went. Marta's training came back to her as she worked, finding each knotted muscle and relaxing it before she moved on to the next one. She kept her touch impersonal, this was a healing - not a seduction. Maybe someday...
"You are very good at this," his voice broke into her train of thought.
"Thank you. I learned it from M-my mother," she said. Wonderful, I almost told him Marta taught me. Keep your wits about you, woman. No more daydreaming. Deciding that perhaps conversation would help keep her focused on the task at hand, she asked, "What are you reading, Doctor?"
"Homer, the 'Odyssey'."
"I always thought the 'Odyssey' was a little sad. So, do you identify with Odysseus? Seeing the world, having adventures and wandering far from your home?"
"No, Odysseus didn't wander by choice. He was trying to get home. He had a wife and son to return to and a kingdom to rule. I'm in no hurry to go home. There's nothing waiting there for me. Most of the time, I'm not even sure where home is any more"
She considered asking more questions. He seemed more willing to talk about himself than he ever had before, but she could feel the tension begin to creep back into his muscles. She continued the conversation, hoping to distract him. "I always admired Penelope. She stayed faithful to Odysseus for all those years he was gone. She raised her son by herself and was clever enough to outwit her persistent suitors. It couldn't have been easy for her with all of those vultures trying to take what was hers just because she had no man to protect her, yet she managed to fool them all."
She had finished with as much as she could reach without dipping below the water line. "I think that will do. You can sit up now, Doctor. How do you feel?"
"Much better. Thank you."
"You're quite welcome. How's the water?"
"Starting to cool down," he admitted.
"Just one more thing, and you'll be free to get out. Close your eyes?" She was surprised when he did as she requested, without argument. She moved to the side of the tub. She lifted her hand to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen across his forehead. Then she took his cheek in her hand, leaned in and very gently, placed a kiss on his temple. "Just remember," she said quietly, "that you always have a home here, if you want it. You have made quite a place for yourself in Santa Helena. There are people who care for you, and people who need you. Good night, Doctor."
~~~~~
He didn't need to open his eyes to know she had gone. He rested there for a few minutes, then got out of the lukewarm water. He dried off and dressed in his nightclothes, his mind reviewing the evening's events.
He ran his fingers across the spot she had kissed on his temple. He hadn't expected that. He didn't know what he had expected, but the tenderness she had shown surprised him. Once again, I can't tell whether I want to yell at her or kiss her. Maybe both. Who else could go from seductive tease to concerned nursemaid in the space of a heartbeat? And the Odyssey? Penelope? I wonder if she has any idea how much she gave away tonight?
Dr. Helm settled into his bed for a well-earned rest. That night he dreamed of home - and for the first time, instead of familiar greens, the dream was in shades of brown.
END
By Jim
zankoku1946@yahoo.com
Response to Challenge 34 Trio: Bar of soap, wine bottle, latch key
Disclaimer: The Characters belong to Fireworks, the story is mine.
Rated: G
~~~~~
The hot California winds blew hard as Marta and Tessa worked in the rose garden, pruning and weeding. These were her mother's roses and she was not beneath working in the earth. A bucket of water sat precariously on the edge of the brick walkway where Tessa had left it. As she finished a rosebush, she would hand water the bush as the hot weather was sucking the moisture from the flowers.
Kneeling in the dirt, working with the bushes gave Tessa a feeling of closeness to her mother. Tessa had almost finished with the last bush when a sudden gust of wind knocked over the bucket, unbeknownst to Tessa, sending the precious water onto the ground to spread behind her. She got up and stretched backwards to loosen the tightness in her back and turned for the bucket. As she did, her foot slipped in the mud and sent her sprawling face forward into the mud. Spiting and fuming she let out an epitaph of non-lady like words when she heard uproariously laughter from Marta.
"If you are through laughing, Marta you can get the bath ready," she said with a look of frustration, embarrassment and anger.
"I will gladly draw the bath if you are finished wallowing in the mud. I also have a bar of soap to wash your mouth out from using that language."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Don't bet on it Tessita. I am your guardian and it is my job to make sure you are a lady at all times."
Tessa turned and stormed into the house, leaving muddy footprints in the hallway. Marta was still laughing, even as she went into the kitchen to heat the bath water. Later after Tessa had cleaned herself up, Marta handed her a mop.
"What's this for?"
"One commonly uses a mop on a floor."
"So?"
"So, whatever is begun in anger ends in shame. You now get to clean up all the muddy footprints."
Tessa grumbled, but the look in Marta's eyes told her she had best do the chore.
~~~~~
Tessa knew that Colonel Montoya was in Monterey on business and Captain Grisham was in charge. Something had been bothering her for some time and tonight would be a good chance to put it at rest.As she slipped over the roof top, dressed as the Queen of Swords, she saw Grisham heading to his quarters with a girl from the cantina on one arm and a bottle of wine tucked under the other. Tessa smiled, as she knew that Marcus would be out of the way for quite awhile.
Slipping into Montoya's office, quiet as a mouse, Tessa moved the bookcase and came to Montoya's not so secret, secret room. Using her dagger as a latchkey like Dr. Helm had showed her, she opened the door and lit a candle. She didn't know what she was looking for, but seared all the ill-gotten booty in the room. Suddenly the light reflected off of an item behind the stolen monstrance. Tessa picked it up and tears welled up in her eyes. It was Papa's pocket watch. She couldn't open it here, so she carefully tucked it away and closed up the room.
~~~~~
Back at the Alvarado hacienda, Tessa showed Marta the watch.
"Won't Montoya know you took it? How can you be so stupid?"
"Marta, he can't accuse me without implicating himself. I will leave the watch here in this room. If Montoya does come here, he will not find this room. It will be an obstacle for me not to accuse him now. I am now a step closer in avenging my father's death. Remember Marta, the greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it. Montoya will pay for his crimes one day."
She put the watch in a chest of valuables and closed the lid. Silently they left the room. One day Papa, one day, thought Tessa.
END
By Lisa
lisa_weston@csufresno.edu
Trio? Bar of soap, wine bottle, latch-key. Rating? P for pointless (not to mention plotless). Summary? Calgon, take me away <g>
~~~~~
Luis lay back, luxuriating in the warm water, bending his knees in the tub so as to submerge his shoulders and so soak away the stress he carried in those muscles. He closed his eyes. Ahhhhh. Bath water at just the right temperature; the faint, sweet rose and lavender scent of the bar of soap; the glass in his hand and the now half-empty bottle of rioja on the floor beside him; and if his door was unlocked, the assurance that a loyal servant was as good as a latch-key against uninvited guests.
The last few days had been annoyingly hectic, filled with reports to be written and dispatched to Monterey, the usual monthly garrison requisitions and expense accounts to be justified, citizen complaints to be dealt with before grumbling became insurrection, taxes to be collected and criminals to be arrested...and consequently rescue attempts by the Queen of Swords to be repulsed. Which meant more expenses and requisitions and more reports after she finished beating the crap out his soldiers.
But this moment of respite from such cares, this rare moment of serenity was blissfully, gratifyingly...sufficient. Not perfect. Perfect would be a bath tub deep enough and long enough that one could soak both knees and shoulders at the same time. Perfect would be some mechanism for topping up that did not require the interruption of a servant and a jug of scalding water. And to be absolutely honest--since he was alone here and could be--perfect would be a companion willing to wash his back and massage the tension away. But since the companion he was thinking of would, unless gagged, likely disturb this blessed silence with argument... Since Alta California was not replete with engineers able to recreate the wonders of ancient Roman indoor plumbing...And since, God knew, there had been many times when a soldier could only dream of enjoying this luxurious a tub...Luis sighed again, took a sip of wine and enjoyed the peace and quiet.
It was, alas, far too good to last.
Voices drifted into the room with the last of the late summer evening's long twilight, angry, raised voices, speaking English. "...prisoner...inhuman treatment...son of a bitch." And then the reply:"...mind your own business..." Then the subdued shuffle and thud of struggle. "...bastard..." "...arrogant prick..." Luis sighed again, less contentedly, opened his eyes and glanced toward the window: his physician and his captain of the guard would never like each other. Someone should separate them. Someone should reprimand them both for causing so shamefully public a scene. Someone should send them to their respective quarters to calm down. But not him. Not this time, Luis murmured to himself. He sat up, leaned over to refill his wine glass, and then lay back again. This time they could sort it out themselves. He closed his eyes once more and smiled. It was Friday night; he was off duty.
END
By Maril
maril.swan@sympatico.ca
Disclaimers: Fireworks still owns 'em.
Rating: S for Silly
Feedback: yes, please
Trio Challenge: bar of soap, wine bottle, latch-key
~~~~~
"Get her, you idiots!" Montoya shouted out his office window as he watched the black-clad figure disappear into the night. She galloped away on her dark horse, leaving just a cloud of dust. Ruefully, he picked up the latch-key to his vault and stared at it. I might as well put a swinging door on that room for all the good a lock does to keep her out. I'm almost getting used to this.
Montoya, breaking into a fine tenor:
"I've grown accustomed to her ways,
She almost makes the day begin.
I've grown accustomed her guise
Which scarcely hides her eyes...
Her mask, her lips, her swords, her whips,
Are a pain in the arse to me now
While she's breathing out and breathing in.
I could get away with murder
Until the day we met
Surely, I could always do that again, and yet...
I've grown accustomed to her mask,
Accustomed to her laugh
Accustomed to her thefts."
I'm very grateful she's a woman
She should be so easy to get;
Rather like a rabbit
One can always catch and yet,
I've grown accustomed to the trace
Of bullets in the air;
Accustomed to the chase."
He dropped the key into his pocket and walked down into the pueblo street where he noticed Doctor Helm standing aloofly with a smug expression on his face. "I see your lady love has managed to thwart the legal authorities once again, Doctor. I don't see how you could possibly admire her."
Helm whirled at the sound of Montoya's voice, a crooked smile already spreading over his features. Helm, launching into a warm baritone:
"I have often walked down this street before;
But I've never felt so much heat before.
All at once am I
Just a regular guy
Who's in love with a bandit queen.
Are there yucca trees in the heart of town?
Can you hear a gunshot in any other part of town?
Does excitement pour
Out of ev'ry door?
No, it's just in the town where you thieve!
And oh! my senses are reeling
Every time you give me a kiss.
The overpowering feeling
That one of these times a soldier might not miss!
Soldiers stop and shoot. They don't bother you.
For there's nothing else on earth that you would rather do.
Let the time go by,
I won't care if I
Can be here in the town where you thieve."
Montoya grimaced and strolled away, convinced that the doctor had become mentally unhinged.
~~~~~
Tessa rushed into the secret room, her face flushed with excitement, eyes dancing with delight. Marta regarded her in annoyance and said, "It is very late. Where have you been?"
Tessa, beginning to sing in a lovely sound-alike Julie Andrews voice:
"I had to ride all night
I had to ride all night
And could have rode some more.
When I stole that gold
From Montoya's hold,
I should have grabbed some more.
Marta, it was so exciting
All at once, my horse took flight
And then I had to flee
When the soldiers fired at me
I had to ride, ride, ride
All night."
"Well, you're home safe now. I have drawn a bath for you in your room."
Tessa followed dutifully. She disrobed then slid gratefully into the warm suds. Marta handed her a cloth and a bar of soap.
"By the way, Tessa, you have a letter from your friend, Luisa." Marta picked up a sealed bundle from the dresser and showed it to the younger woman.
"Read it to me, Marta," Tessa said as she plunged under the foamy water of the tub. Emerging with water streaming off her face, she beamed a warm smile at the Gypsy woman.
Marta read the contents and then stopped. "It seems they are having bad weather in Madrid."
"What do you mean, Marta?" Tessa leaned on the edge of the tub, looking up expectantly.
Marta, whipping out her castanets and a fan, begins to do a slow flamenco. She sings while dancing: "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain."
Tessa: "Now once again, where does it rain?"
Marta, with fervour: "On the plain! On the plain!"
Tessa: "And where's that soggy plain?"
Marta: "In Spain, in Spain."
Duet: ""The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain."
Stronger: "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain!"
~~~~~
The soldiers slouched over their weary horses as they trooped along the trail back to the pueblo. At their head, Capitan Grisham sighed several times as he glanced at the lightening of the dawn sky.
Next to him, his sergeant asked, "What is wrong, Capitan? We did our best."
Grisham, glaring at the sergeant, breaks into a deep baritone:
"There'll be a court-martial in the morning
Boom, bang, the guns are going to blast
'Cause I couldn't stop her,
I'll have to tell a whopper
Or Montoya will kick my ass.
So I've got to be there in the morning
Spruced up and looking mighty fine
Vera come and kiss me
Show how you'll miss
Cause now my life ain't worth a dime."
The sergeant leaned back and pulled a wine bottle out of his saddlebag. "Here, Capitan. You look like you need this more than I do."
END
By Paula Stiles
thesnowleopard@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMERS: Funnily enough, Fireworks still owns `em and I don't.
RATING: PG for Grisham language
TRIO CHALLENGE: bar of soap, wine bottle, latch-key and
QUOTE 1: "Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame." - Benjamin Franklin
~~~~~
"Ow! Ow! Owww!" Grisham yelped as Dr. Helm dragged him outside to the horse trough near the soldiers' quarters. "Doc, leggo! That hurts!"
"That's the point," Helm chided Grisham. Taking a firmer grip on Grisham's ear, he twisted. Grisham yelped even louder, scaring two Catalan nuns who had arrived in town just yesterday. They jumped back, eyes wide, from the horse trough, where they had been getting water for their mules.
"Hey!" Grisham yelled, as Helm patted him down and dug through his pockets. "Doc, we are not that close." Helm's search ended when he triumphantly held up a latch-key.
"Well, well, well," he growled. "Look what we have here--the new key to my back door."
"Shit," Grisham said, cringing inwardly. "Uh, look Doc, it's not what you think."
"Oh, I doubt that," Helm retorted. "I've seen a good deal more of the world than you realize, Captain. So, young Maria Theresa did see somebody spying on her as she was changing her clothes in my examination room this morning. You have a very dirty mind, Grisham. I think it could use a good wash." Before Grisham realized what Helm was doing, the doctor had grabbed him by the back of his neck and shoved his head into the trough. Grisham nearly drowned on his own yell of protest.
"Goddamnit, Doc, that's not funny!" he spluttered, when Helm let him back up.
Helm clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Such language. I should wash your mouth out with soap but I don't have any--Oh, thank you, Sister Sarah," he said as one of the nuns, the short, pale one, scampered forward to press a bar of homemade soap into his hand. Helm favored her with a crooked smile that would have made an abbess abandon her convent. Both of the nuns giggled and simpered in response.
"Don't even think about it, Do--AUGH!" With the same twisted smile that he'd bestowed on the nun (though it looked far more sinister to Grisham), Helm shoved the bar of soap into Grisham's mouth. The soap tasted, predictably, of smoky, rancid fat. Grisham gagged and tried to yank free. Helm, however, still had hold of Grisham's ear. He twisted said ear cruelly, causing poor Grisham to sink to his knees next to the tub.
"I should make you eat the whole thing," Helm said cheerfully. He looked over at the nuns. "What do you think, Sisters?"
"Dunk 'im." They passed judgment in unison--then crossed themselves. In unison.
Helm grinned down at Grisham. He was obviously having the best day of his lousy, miserable week. "What about you, Captain? What do you think? The soap or a bath?"
Grisham glared up at Helm, then reluctantly spit out the soap.
"Fair enough," Helm said. Hauling Grisham to his feet, he tipped him over into the trough. As Helm threw him in, the Englishman finally let go of Grisham's ear. Grisham floundered around, splashing slimy water all over the place. He noted sourly that Helm had jumped back before any could get on him. At least he kept his head above the water this time, and managed not to swallow any more horse slobber.
"I'll get you for this, you bastard," he snarled at Helm, who was now being congratulated by the nuns on an exorcism well done.
"Now, now, Captain," Helm scolded him. "Remember what your countryman, Benjamin Franklin, always said: 'Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame.'" He pocketed the latchkey. "Please try to remember that the next time you treat my office as your personal brothel."
For a brief moment, Grisham thought he might get a shot at Helm's retreating back. No such luck. As Helm backed away, the two nuns closed in on either side of him like anxious sheepdogs. Grisham knew better than to splash them. There was Hell, and then there was Hell for guys who crossed nuns--even if the water was now getting into his boots. Grimly, he watched his enemy turn and leave the field triumphant and unscathed.
"Oh, Doctor," Sister Sarah simpered as the three of them walked away. "Perhaps you could join Sister Bernadette and I for lunch. We have a lovely bottle of dessert wine from Valencia that you really must try."
"Why, thank you, Sister. I'd be honored to share your meal," Helm purred. Just as nuns and doctor passed out of earshot, Grisham heard the two sisters giggle. In unison.
END
summary "people say 'saying don't make it so'...but what if it did? and if it ever does, who decides who is real?"
done in the style of The Outer Limits
an answer to all the Challenge items and quotes for this week
anybody who asks may archive it
~~~~~~~~
She'd tracked him all the way out to here, a backwater canyon she'd passed once or twice; one with no place to hide once in it, no water or anything else to eat or drink; in short, utterly worthless. The Queen was ready to re-phrase that to 'utterly worthless to anyone but the Capitan.' What was he doing?
She had been aware, ever since being locked in a cave with him, of certain feelings for Marcus. While not exactly Love, they also hadn't been Hatred or Revulsion. She couldn't find a good way of categorizing them, and thus couldn't just shelve them - and she also couldn't talk to Marta about it either.
It was that curious concern that had brought her here, to learn what he was doing.
What Captain Grisham was doing, and had been doing for the entire time he had been tracked, was to open a passageway. His skin was wearing heavy on him, and he was ready for a vacation, even if there was a report to make.
So intently was his focus that he did not detect the Queen of Swords' approach, though he should have - and normally would have been able to. And it very likely would have been better for all concerned if he had.
To Tessa's eyes, what came out of the space Grisham was reaching into - was that a pocket of something? - was a wave of colours. And even 'wave' failed to describe it, lacking a defined edge, or foam. It was colours without solid lines, no lines at all.
Grisham had vanished.
Moments later, Tessa too was engulfed by the lineless.
~~~
Absorbtion, soaking, bleaching, transferring, drifting. They all worked to describe Grisham's world, the plane he was on now. He was home.
Having dropped the human shell upon re-entering this realm, he could feel his mind expanding back to normal parameters, touching the others of his kind, gentle taps on their peripheries after so long away. The delicate scent of the metaphors, the tangy wiffs of the associatives, the chattering cry of the similies.
Here, in this place, in his native bodyless form, Grisham was blind of visual sights; but he could feel conceptions trudging through the groundless clouds that made up his world. He could likewise feel thoughts, and - speaking of thoughts -
Feeling something on the edge of his mind, a someone who had been pulled in with him, Grisham quickly constructed a simacrum to hold the stowaway for long enough . . .
END