Monday, December 22, 2008

Scribble Soup for Writers's Block #45: the great outdoors

It's another stinking hot day.
"Let's go bushwalking," Boyfriend says.
"Okay," I mumble in reply, not taking my eyes off the t.v.
In an unusual spurt of energy Boyfriend gets up and showers, while I lounge about.
"Are you ready?" Boyfriend asks 15 minutes later.
"I will be soon," I reply, not budging from my seat.
"Come on, hurry up!" Boyfriend calls from the dining room.
"Well have you packed the water bottles?" I say as I throw on some clothes.

Ten minutes later I ask, "So what's happening with the water?"
"It's coming! Where are the bottles?" Boyfriend asks, not having moved an inch from where he'd been standing.
I point to the bottle sitting on the table to his left, "Oh look, it's a candle disguised as a bottle."
Boyfriend gives me 'the look'. "I guess you want me to fill it up with water now." He says sarcastically, walking to the fridge. He opens the door, stares, then walks away. "We're out of juice. Can you put it on the list?"
I add it to the list, "Anything else you need?"
"Yeah, cereal."
"There's a box on top of the cupboard," I say.
"It's empty."
"Then why isn't it in the bin?" I ask in dismay.
Boyfriend laughs guiltily, "It was easier than throwing it into the bin."
I give him 'the look'. "The bin would have been closer."
Boyfriend snickers even louder.

In the car, Boyfriend gives me his hourly update on the temperature, "I can't believe how hot it is. It's only 28 °C but it feels much hotter."
We arrive at Forest Island. It's stinking hot and I'm covered from head to toe in my anti-leech combat gear. For added insurance, I spray myself with tropical strength bug repellent. Five minutes into the walk, the battery on my camera dies. Without the constant activity of photo taking, my mind is free to analyse the likelihood of a leech attack. I mentally list all the places on my body that a leech can latch on to. I feel exposed and vulnerable. I start to sulk. Boyfriend decides to climb down the ravine to take a closer look at the creek. I calculate the chances of a leech attack. I don't like the odds. I sulk even further. Boyfriend forces me to follow him. So I do, protesting all the way down. It's a beautiful spot, but I am ever vigilant of leeches. I keep my eyes wide open. I am not deceived by the creek's beauty.

We follow the creek until we can no longer do so without getting wet. Boyfriend decides it's time to head back to the track. Our climb is impeded by a patch of stinging nettles. This is not a problem for me, after all I'm covered from head to toe. Boyfriend is wearing shorts. I suggest he places some palm fronds down.
"Good idea," he says. Unfortunately he slips. The buggers get him. He is in pain. We march on. He trips over a loose rock, and twists his ankle. We march on.

An hour later, we return to the car. Boyfriend has a hankering for banana bread. He asks me if I feel like stopping in Deena for coffee.
"No, I'm all sweaty and yukky," I reply.
He doesn't tell me he really wants to stop in Deena, until right before the turn off. With five cars trailing closely behind us, he says, "I really feel like banana bread."
"If you really wanted to stop at the cafe, you could have just said so," I reply.
Without slowing down, Boyfriend takes the turn-off. I hold on for dear life, Boyfriend's camera bag falls to the floor. He turns to me and says, "What? The other cars were right up my arse. I couldn't slow down."

Our stomachs full with banana bread, we decide to stop off at Crystal Waters. Boyfriend discovers that his stunt driving has broken his very expensive camera lens. Now it's his turn to sulk.

For more click on scribblesoup

Friday, December 19, 2008

Sunday Scribblings #142: Late

"Yay, the Birthday Girl is finally here and only 43 minutes late," Bestfriend says, clapping her hands as I slide onto the seat beside her.

"It's not my fault. It was the tiger snake."

"What snake?" Everyone asks in unison.

"Well, I was sitting on the sofa watching t.v, when I saw something moving from the corner of my eyes. I turned and it's was a snake crawling on the floor next me. Of course I automatically went into denial and convinced myself that it was stick. Then it reared it's head. That's when I did my superman leap and ran like hell upstairs," I say pumping my arms in illustration.
Everyone laughs.

"I swear the snake followed me, because when I turned around it was at the foot of the staircase. I ran to the phone. I didn't know who to call so I called directory. When the lady asked me who I wanted to be connected to I said, 'I didn't know'. I told her I was trapped in a house with a snake. She didn't know too, but she eventually put me through to the police. I called them and told them my story and they laughed. They then gave me the number for the zoo and snake catcher. I called the zoo but it was after hours and no-one answered, so I called the snake catcher and waited," I pause as the waiter filled my wine glass.

"Well go on. What happened next?" Bestfriend asks.

"When the snake catcher came, he tried to get me to come downstairs to open the door, but the snake was still at the bottom of the staircase. There was no way on earth, I was going down. It was sort of strange because when I usually come home, I leave my keys on the kitchen bench. Today I carried them with me upstairs. I'd left them beside the phone. So snake catcher guy had to get a ladder and climb to my window and break through the safety screen so that I could pass the keys down to him."

"It took him less than 2 minutes to catch the snake. By this time it had crawled to the kitchen. He put a tea towel down and it crawled to it. Piece of advice everyone, if you ever have a tiger snake in your house, put a towel or something down. They'll move to it."

"Are you serious?"

"That's what he told me."

"How'd you know it was a tiger snake?" Bestfriend's boyfriend asks.

"He told me that too. And that everyone is why I am late. Now can I eat, I'm starved."

Sunday scribblings

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Scribble Soup for Writers' Block #37: Serendipity

Your word prompt is "serendipity". Have you ever stumbled upon an opportunity by accident...or design?

As I alighted from the tram, I cursed myself silently. I'd overshot my destination again, this time by several stops. It took several more choice swear words before I noticed the store. Actually, what I really noticed was the pair of ruby ear-rings displayed in the window. I pressed closer, mesmerized by the intricate red and black, rose design. I did a little jig on the cold pavement, waving my arms around, until I caught the sales assistant's eyes. I mimed, "price?" through the glass. The lady walked towards the display and turned the price tag over, $149.95.

I couldn't afford that on my lowly student income. Disappointed, I turned around and walked towards the bus stop. It started to rain. Heavily. I fished blindly in my bag for the umbrella and came back empty handed. I dropped the bag to the ground, squatted beside it and ventured where I'd never dare gone before, into the dark recesses of my bag. I pulled out an envelope addressed to me. Curious I opened the envelope and pulled out $50 and a handwritten note.
"Thanks for the loan, sis."
It was from my brother. He'd left the envelope on the kitchen table earlier this week. I'd grabbed it on my way out, put it in my bag and promptly forgot all about it.

It stopped raining. I smiled to myself as I repacked my bag, then something smacked me on the head before falling to my feet. It was a $100 note. I looked around me, searching for the owner. There was no-one around. I picked the note up.

Ten minutes later, I was the proud owner of pair of ruby ear-rings. As I walked passed the store for the last time that day, I finally noticed the shop sign. On the window, painted in large black letters were the words, 'Serendipity'.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Scribble Soup for Writers' Block #40: Self-portrait

What is it about you that makes you different?

* I hate writing about myself, but I've been set a challenge by some of my friends (you know who you are), so here I am.

* I'm allergic to lavender. Despite my skin (namely my face) turning red and splotchy everytime I came into contact with the stuff (and lavender seems to be in everything), it's taken me years to figure this out. The big clue came after I ate lavender chocolate. My body swelled and my neck was covered in tiny black spots. I had to test this theory out a few times, by eating some more lavender chocolate. Yep, same thing. Boyfriend (well he's actually my fiance, but I like to call him Boyfriend) gave me a gift certificate for a spa treatment. Everything they used on me contained lavender. My body was covered in itchy rashes for 3 weeks.

* I'm a keen mountain-biker, who's afraid of speed. Consequently I spend most of my time off the bike.

* I think I'm partially dyslexic. I have a tendency to read things back to front, especially numbers. Despite this, I started my university degree studying geological engineering. It took me 3 years to figure out that I couldn't read a map, let alone be able to visualise these things in 3-D.

* I don't like milk. The only time I drink it is when my body craves it. And the only time my body craves it is just before I come down with the flu.

* I'm a lucid dreamer. Does that make me a control freak?

* I started this blog, because for a week my dreams were filled with writing. I have a short attention span, and find it really hard to complete any writing project, so I thought blogging would encourage me to write everyday. Hmm...

Scribblesoup prompt

Sunday Scribblings #141: I knew instantly...

I knew instantly that I was in trouble. There are many rules where I work but the number one rule is "THERE IS TO BE NO PHYSICAL CONTACT WITH CLIENTS". I was never any good at following rules. My name is Lady Kadaver, Lady K for short and I am an exotic dancer, by choice.

It had started innocently enough. The client had a foot fetish, all I had to do was wiggle my toes, and wave my feet around. For the first ten minutes, he blissfully followed my feet with his eyes, turning his head every so often to track their movement. I was bored, so the devil in me asked, "Why not?" I always had trouble resisting that voice.

And so I complied. I placed my bare feet on his bald head and moved them slowly down his face, kneading his cheeks in the process. The client went from blissful straight to foot fetish heaven, on a trail of drool. I moved my feet back to his bald pate, well away from the drool. Not long after, an angry voice hissed in my ear, "Get up. Now." It was my supervisor, the Devil herself.

She marches me back to the change room. She yells and waves her arms around. I tune out for most of it.
" do not touch the clients. They are not to touch you and you definitely do not touch them. He has a foot fetish, so rubbing your feet on his face is the same as you rubbing your v -"
I interupt her with the only thing I could think of to stop her tirade, "Um, you need to stop yelling at me. I think you're starting to turn me on."
She huffs in reply, before saying, "One of these days, your smart mouth is going to get you in a lot of trouble."

It already has. Many times.


Thursday, December 11, 2008

Scribble Soup for Writers' Block # 35: Opposites

Can you think of word combinations that combine two opposites. For example "pretty ugly". Write down as many as you can and put them into a story.

strangely familiar; love-hate; negative affirmation; loud whisper; abnormally normal; opposites attract; flawed perfection; open secret; iced water; never-ending.

"Here try this on," Bestfriend said, thrusting a bright yellow dress into my hands.
"It's yellow," I say in a loud whisper.
"No it's not. It's 'canary' at least according to the sales assistant."
"I'm not wearing yellow'."
"What's wrong with yellow?"
"It's not black."
Bestfriend laughed out loud, "You need some colour in your wardrobe."
"Black is a colour," I tell her.
"No it's not, it's a funeral."
Bestfriend and I have had this conversation many times before. It is our never-ending argument. It wasn't that I was necessarily opposed to wearing 'colour'. I have a love-hate relationship with it. I love colour on other people, I hate it on myself.
"It'll show off your beautiful body," she informs me.
"No it won't. It'll highlight every bump."
"What bump," Bestfriend says.
"This bump," I say sticking my gut out.
"Ah, the flawed perfection, a gut that ignored detection." She announces dropping dramatically onto her knees. Bestfriend thinks she's a poet and comedian. Hilarious.
"I have lots of bumps," I protest.
"Stop with the negative affirmation." Bestfriend has now appointed herself my therapist.
"Okay, I'm positive I have lots of bumps," I say.
"Ha, ha."

We decide to move on to more serious business. Lunch. We head to our favourite cafe.
"Hey look it's Vonnie and she has a man with her," Bestfriend whispers, pointing at a couple sitting nearby.
"He looks strangely familiar," I observe.
"That's because it's Jonothan."
"Who?" I ask looking at her blankly.
"You know, her manager."
"Oh, that Jonothan." I say. "Um, they're kissing. Isn't Vonnie married?" I ask.
"They're both married. Their affair is an open secret around the office."
"It's a secret to me," I say insulted that I'm the last to know.
"And they're complete opposites. She's as 'out there' as you can get and he's...well he's abnormally normal," I add.
"Opposites attract." Bestfriend says nodding wisely.

I take a sip of my iced water, Bestfriend chews noisily. Vonnie and Jonothan walk out of the cafe hand in hand.

Scribblesoup challenges

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Scribble Soup for Writers' Block #30: Anecdote

Has something funny...or embarrassing...or scary...or amazing....ever happened to you?

It wasn't until a few hours later that Harry remembered the object that he'd carelessly thrown into the back seat of his vehicle. He'd found it up earlier that night, when the light from his torch had picked up something shiny.
"Hey guys, what do you think this is?" he asked bringing the object closer to the light of the camp fire.
"Jesus Christ! That's a leg bone," Phil cried in disbelief.
Ranger shook his head, "Why are you carrying a leg bone around?"
"It's not human is it?" Harry asked, feeling a little stupid.
"It's human all right, you doofus."
"Where'd you find it?" Ranger asked, reaching for the bone.
"Behind the depot a few hours ago."
"You've been carrying this around with you for hours?"
"Shit, now we have to call the cops. More paper work." Phil muttered.
"I'll radio it in," Ranger said walking towards the car.

The rest of the skeleton was recovered behind the depot shed the next day. It was identified by the serial number on the metal joints (the shiny bit). The bones belonged to an old man suffering from dementia, who had gone missing 5 years earlier.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Scribble Soup for Writers' Block #23

Do you have a favourite cd? Write a story incorporating as many song titles in the cd as you can.

Elysium for the Brave

In death they lie in endless reverie. Felled by Winter's kiss, they sleep in her eternal embrace. As spring arrives in other worlds, its light will never touch their deathly abode. They meet in secret, the tryst of the battle worn. Their bodies turn from heaven to dust, carried from this life in forty one ways.

I am a stranger in this world
, in this divide. For now.

Scribblesoup prompt #23

Sunday Scribblings #139: Winter

In summer I like to think of winter. I imagine all the cold places, like Alaska, Iceland and Antarctica, that I would like to visit. I add them to my list. I give them to my friends and family.
"This is what you can get me for Christmas," I tell them.
"You hate the cold," Boyfriend likes to inform me.
"No I don't."
"Yes you do, every winter you whinge about how cold it is and you refuse to go anywhere."
"This will be different."
"How so?"
"It'll be different."
He laughs, "You can't even stand the winter here, and it rarely drops below 10 °C. You wouldn't survive an Alaskan winter."
I ignore Boyfriend. I stomp into the bedroom. I grab a cardigan from my wardrobe. Boyfriend follows me.
"It's a balmy 25 degrees outside," he informs me (Boyfriend likes to tell me the temperature).
"So I'm cold."
He laughs again.
"I have tropical genes," I tell him imperiously.
He laughs even harder. I imagine a big fat "ex" scrawled on Boyfriend's forehead.

It is 38 °C, another unbearably hot Christmas Eve. I can't move. I'm glued to the leather lounge, held tentatively in place by my sweat. Boyfriend walks into the lounge.
"Here," he says handing me a package.
"For me!" I exclaim, slipping out of my ennui. I hastily tear at the wrapper. Boyfriend has given me a beanie, woollen gloves and a scarf.
He laughs at my unimpessed expression, "Read the card."
I open the card and read,"Let's have a winter wedding in Ireland."

Sundayscribbling prompt

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Goth Nerds Inc.

It was night, which was not an uncommon habitat for a goth. Jimmy which is an uncommon name for a goth was having breakfast. With his headphones permanently attached to his pale ears (or at least it seemed, for he was never seen without it), Jimmy jerked and spasmed enthusiastically around the kitchen to the musical sounds of Marilyn Manson. Deeply entrenched in the dark rhythms, he failed to notice the sinister pair of eyes watching from the darkness. It waited until Jimmy gave one final show stopping jerk of his pelvis before launching into the air and attaching itself securely onto his pale neck.


It was only 8 am but already the day had turned to shit. It was hot and muggy. The heat from the past few days still lingered in the air and there didn't seem to be any relief anytime soon. The unrelenting heat only added to the tension. Sweat trickled down Ranger's 5'11" frame as he waited for the police to secure the crime scene. He turned to look at his partner Raven and wondered how she always managed to look fresh in all her black leather, while he sweated like a pig. At least the sweat offered some relief from the heat.

"Time to go in," Raven said with a grim smile, pulling on a pair of laced trimmed black latex gloves.
Ranger grabbed his tool kit from the back of the 4WD and followed Raven past the crime scene tape and into the house. The first thing he noticed was the smell. The air was thick with the ammonic smell of urine mixed with the undertones of neglect only associated with bachelor households.
"Where's the body?" he asked.
"Just follow the black rain," answered Raven, pointing to the ceiling space above him.
"Shit! It's raining leeches."
"Yeah, it's raining Quaesitobdella bilineata
"Quasi what?"
"Quaesitobdella bilineata.
See how they all have yellow medial stripes," Raven answered bending down to retrieve a speciman jar from her kit.
"Let's get started. We have to clear the area before they can take him down," she added, moving decisively towards the mass of crawling leeches.

Ranger hesitated for a brief moment before following suit. The whole scene looked surreal. It was almost like the world had turned upside down. Jimmy Palin's pale limp body lay spread eagled, except instead of being on the floor it was stuck to the ceiling. From his face and torso the leeches moved in a synchronised periscopic wave of black and yellow. They covered him like a living jacket, and one by one, they detached themselves and fell like black rain to the floor.

An hour later Raven peeled off her latex gloves and threw them into the bin.
"I think that's all of them,"
With all the leeches safely seeled in the jars, they now had an unobstructed view. Jimmy's vacant hazel eyes stared down at them, while the muscles of his mouth, twisted in a permanent scream.
"There's no smell of decomp, do you think he's still alive?" Ranger asked sniffing the air.
"Only one way to find out," one of the medics commented, as one by one the medical crew pushed passed Ranger. Together they formed a semi-circle, creating a human barrier that effectively blocked any further investigation. With their backs to the pair, they discussed the best ways to remove the body.
"I guess that's our cue," Raven said, moving towards the door.

"Do you think he's still alive?" Ranger repeated as he followed her to the car.
"Did you notice anything strange about the body?" Raven asked, ignoring Ranger's question.
"You mean how the body was stuck to the ceiling?"
"That and the fact that we didn't see any blood. When a leech bites you, you usually bleed. There was no blood, Ranger. On the otherhand, leeches love fresh kills..."

Monday, November 24, 2008

Scribble soup for Writers' Block #24: Scrabble words

Your starting word is "meet"...Your first sentence must contain "meet"... For the next sentence, change one letter in meet eg. feet....Your second sentence must contain this word...etc...

They were destined to meet. The hunter stalking silently through the woods for tender meat. Crouching in the shadows, hidden from the heat of the sun, he watches. On feet so silent that even the keenest ears cannot hear, he inches towards his prey. He pounces, his heart beating in joy at the fear reflected in her eyes. His sharp teeth tear and chew. He growls in delight, this is his first fresh kill for the year. From behind the bushes, the other silent hunter takes aim and shoots the bear. As his friends look on, beer in hand the hunter poses next to his fallen trophies. The deer and the bear.

Dang this was a hard one...

For more writing challenges click on Scribblesoup

Sunday, November 23, 2008



Back at base camp, Ranger took a grateful swallow from his thermos mug. The coffee was cold, but he didn't care. It was strong and for now, it was exactly what he needed. Ignoring the exhausted chatter around him, he walked to the edge of the clearing. Wearily massaging the back of his neck, Ranger surveyed the rugged terrain before him. It was a deceptively beautiful place. In the distance he could hear the helicopter approaching. It was time to go home.

Three days ago a young bushwalker had wandered away from his group and disappeared. While anxious friends and family waited, the search and rescue teams had combed the dense bushland. Two hours ago the coded messaged had come through from the command post.
"The bottle is broken."
The lost bushwalker had been found.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Sunday Scribblings #138: Grateful

Grace surveyed her reflection in the mirror.
"Not bad," she said aloud, blowing a playful kiss at her image.
"Not bad indeed," Shay said sticking her head into the room.
"Have you ever heard of knocking first?"
"What and miss all this," Shay answered as Grace pitched a pillow in her general direction.

Outside a horn blared.
"C'mon Miss, our chariot awaits," Shay announced in a fake cockney accent.

"Hurry up, we're going to miss the opening act," a voice called impatiently from the car as the two best friends approached the vehicle.
Shay rolled her eyes dramatically before shouting, "We're coming!"

Reaching the car, Grace paused, trying to work out how to delicately get into the car. The black dress was stunning but it was also tight and very short.
As Grace stood undecided, a voice whispered, "Don't get in the car."
"What did you say?" Grace asked.
"Huh?" Shay answered, sweeping past her. "C'mon, Her Highness is going to be late and under no circumstances is SHE ever late."
Smiling uneasily, Grace prepared to get into the car.
"Don't get in the car," the voice whispered again.
Stepping away from the car, Grace looked around her nervously.
"What's wrong Grace, you look kinda pale?" Shay asked.
"Um, I'm not feeling so well. I'll think I'll just have a quiet night in."
"But we've been planning this night for ages," Twist said from the passenger seat.
"Um, I'm sorry but I don't feel so well," Grace said apologetically, turning away.
Sighing, Shay got out of the car.
"You guys go ahead. I'll stay with her, make sure she's alright."

As the car headlights disappeared around the street corner, Shay remarked, "You know it's kinda insulting how little they protested."
"I'm sorry Shay, I know how much you were looking forward to tonight."
"It's okay. I would of just ended up throwing something at Her Highness anyway."
"C'mon she's not that bad."
"Yeah on her own, but with Twist...uhh," Shay said, faking a shudder. "It's still a mystery to me how we ever became friends in the first place," she added.
"You were young and desperate," Grace teased.
"Nah, just keeping my enemies close by," Shay joked.

At 3 am, Grace awoke to Shay's desparate shaking.
"What's wrong?" Grace asked sleepily.
"It's Twist and Elizabeth...Grace, they're dead," Shay said sobbing.
"" Shay managed before her legs buckled beneath her.

For more writing prompts click on Sundayscribblings

Monday, November 17, 2008

Ashes and Silt ...(Episode vii)

Twilight crept across the horizon, unnoticed by the occupants of the sleepy country town. Ranger, exhausted and desperately missing Raven, was finally on the road and on his way back home. In the past few days, his patience had been tried and tested many times. The environmental management conference had turned into a farce, overrun by the different factions intent on enforcing their own agenda. Mulling over the battles ahead, he almost collided with a lone wombat slowly making its way across the road. Swerving the car, he barely missed the woman standing on the side of the road.

Heart beating a loud tempo in his chest, he climbed out of the 4WD.
"Christ, are you alright."
"I... need... to... go... home," she whispered staring vacantly ahead.
"Hey, it'll be alright. I'll give you a lift," Ranger said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"," she repeated.

The woman was obviously suffering from shock. Her mud stained black dress accentuated her pale face, lending a fragile beauty to the otherwise harsh features. Surveying the isolated landscape and noting that there were no other vehicles in the vicinity, he briefly wondered how she had gotten to this place.

Taking her cold hands in his, he gently guided her into the car.


The soft light of dawn was beginning to creep across the landscape, when with a frustrated sigh, Ranger gave up on the radio dial. Nothing in the car worked, not the radio which had played static for the last thirty minutes nor his mobile phone. Now all he had to listen to was the strange woman who kept repeating the same line. It was starting to creep him out.

Ranger checked the clock again. It wasn't working either. It was still showing 4.30 am. Hearing her gasp, he turned to look at her, before quickly returning his attention back on the road. From out of nowhere a man appeared. Slamming on the brakes, Ranger tried to manoeuvre the car away from the man but it was too late. There was a sickening thud as the car made contact, before skidding out of control. It hit the embankment and flipped on its side rolling five times before coming to a stop.

Time moved slowly. Ranger watched as if from afar, as the car flipped upside down, crushing the roof of the cabin. As the car began to roll, a clump of grass wedged its way in between the opening in the window.

Bothriochloa macra
, he thought a little hysterically, correctly identifying the species as the vehicle came to a stop on its side. There was a deafening silence before awareness slowly returned. He looked for his strange passenger but she was nowhere to be seen. He stared nonsensically instead at the single black feather which had buried itself in her seat.

In a half daze, he tried to open the door. Finding it stuck, he climbed out the window instead and staggered around in confusion.

"Are you all right?" a voice called from behind him.
"Yeah, I think so," he replied collapsing to the ground.
"I saw the car roll from up that hill. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah," he replied regaining his feet.

With unsteady steps, Ranger walked around the scene of the accident.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for the man I hit and the woman in the car."
"What man and woman?"
"The man and woman!" Ranger exclaimed as panic set in.

He marched wildly around, looking about him, while the stranger looked on in confusion. There were no trees nearby to hide any bodies.

"Listen mate, the medics and cops will be here soon, so why don't you just sit down and rest for a bit."

Ignoring this advice, Ranger walked back to the car with the man following worriedly behind him. He checked the front of the vehicle. There was mud splattered on the bumper and windscreen.

"Strange, it hasn't rained here in months," the man observed running a finger through the fresh mud.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Scribblesoup #16: the end is the start

Write a the last letter of that sentence is the starting letter of the next sentence...

She lived her life in dreams.
Seeing colours instead of shades of black and white.
Elephants danced past her windows, doing acrobatic twirls.
Sometimes it would rain, chocolate tasting drops.
Sweet liquid ambrosia for her delight.

Tonight she lies on marshmallow clouds.
Sipping moonbeams on ice.
Empress of her domain, watching with a silly grin.
Nicotine-patched angels fishing for starlight.

...okay this is what happens when I'm sleep deprived!

10 minute writing challenges scribblesoup

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Sunday Scribblings #137: Stranger

The Dark Stranger

Raven sat crossed legged on the floor listening to the soft drone of Wolf's gentle voice. The acrid aftertaste of blue lotus wine still lingered on her tongue. The wine, combined with the smell of burning skullcap leaves and wood smoke, was making her drowsy.
" in your mind reach out and open the door. Who do you see?"
"A stranger...with thick long black hair. I can't see her face, but I know she's very old. There's something strangely familiar about her..."
Wolf smiled knowingly to herself, before saying,"Ask her your question."
Raven thought about the restlessness that had slowly crept into her life and the insidious fear that she'd chosen the wrong career, before answering, "I want to know if I'm on the right path."
"Now go to sleep, she will find you," Wolf whispered in her ear.

The cage swayed unsteadily, waking Raven from her slumber. Its metal bars creaked in protest as the wind rushed by.
"Where am I?" she asked no-one in particular.
"You're where you are now," a woman's voice answered her.
Sitting on a perch, swinging her thin legs in the air, the old hag chuckled as Raven clumsily swung around.
"Who are you?"
The woman cackled loudly in response.
"You're the lady in my vision," Raven whispered, walking to the edge of the cage. Grasping the metal bars in her hand, she looked down into the abyss.
Turning around to face the woman once again, she asked, "Am I on the right path?"
"This is the path you've chosen," the hag replied, sweeping her arms wide.
"But this is a cage."
"Ah, but a cage of your making."
"How do I escape?"
"Look around you Raven, there are only three walls."
"But I can't just walk out. I'll fall into the abyss," Raven cried in alarm.
The hag laughed mirthlessly.
"Then fly out."
"But I don't have wings."
"Oh but you do sweet Raven."
Raven quickly checked herself. To her astonishment she found that her arms had been replaced by a pair of black wings.

Raven woke to the sound of the radio alarm. Rolling over she hit the stop button, then dragged her sleepy form out of bed. She had a meeting with the manager scheduled for the morning. Making her way slowly to the bathroom, she checked herself in the mirror. A stranger stared back at her. It was the hag.
"Who are you?"
This time she knew the answer.
"Who am I?" she whispered as the image of the hag morphed into that of herself. Turning away she unclasped her right hand and watched as a black feather slowly floated to the floor.

For more information click on sundayscribblings

Scribble Soup for Writers' Block #13: it's all in the name

Write a paragraph using the letters of your full name. The first letter of each sentence has to start with a letter (in order of spelling) in your full name.

icking dry lips, she ran her hands along the outline of the gravestone, while wondering at the loss of it all.
Inside she was dying slowly, drowning in confusion and grief.
Little by little the darkness pulled her in, overwhelming the daylight.
Little hands clawed at her black skirt, demanding attention.
Yanking sharply now, the hands could no longer be ignored.
Another precious life had been taken, but the world had not stopped to mourn.
She turned her attention to her young daughter, picking her up in her arms.
Inch by slow inch the darkness faded away.
An angel with yellow hair and missing front teeth needed her now.

For more writing challenges click on scribblesoup.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Ashes and Silt (cont...again)

this story is copyrighted 2008
Lyrics in this story are taken from the song the dam at otter creek by Live
Episode vi

Raven sat waiting impatiently by the phone. Three hours had passed since she had left a message on Ranger's mobile phone. She needed to do something to occupy herself.
"Okay music angels, tell me what to do," she whispered switching the radio on.

"When all that's left to do,
Is reflect on what's been done,

this is where sadness breathes

the sadness of everyone..."

Raven stood rooted to the spot as the words echoed loudly throughout the silent house.

"Just like when the guys built the dam at Otter Creek
and all the
water backed up
Deep enough to dive

We took the dead man in sheets

to the river flanked by l0ve...."

From the corner of her eyes she caught a flash of movement. Turning towards the window, she watched mesmerised as a murder of crows flew noiselessly towards the house. One by one, they came to a rest on the eucalypt tree. They sat and watched in eerie silence. Then as one, they rose up into the air, and flew away in the direction of the dam.

Raven sprang into action. She ran out the back door and jumped the fence. She stumbled a few times, tripping over rocks and fallen branches as she hurriedly made her way down the hill towards the dam . The crows were waiting for her at the bottom of the hill. They sat perched on a branch waiting and watching. They waited patiently as she caught her breath, before rising again as one.

Raven followed, running as fast as her legs could carry her. All but one of the crows finally came to a rest on the eastern side of the dam wall, the lonely side as it was known because it was hidden away from the picnicking crowds. The last crow stood alone, perched on a large boulder. It watched her approach through crimsom eyes, before releasing a loud warning caw as it swooped towards her. Raven screamed, eyes closed she flung her arms out in defence as she twisted away from the cawing crows.

Silence. Raven cautiously peeled her eyes open. A single black feather rested on a boulder. She stepped cautiously towards it. On the boulder, next to the feather was an inscription. She ran her hands gently over the words as she read:

"In loving memory of Jeremy William Otter

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Scribble Soup for Writers' Block # 8

In 10 minutes write a paragraph without using the letter 't'.

She danced on moonbeams, her long yellow dress billowing behind her. Her body swayed and shimmered. She laughed as she spun around in circles, moving away from shadows. She smiled knowingly as she flicked her long blood red hair, seducing her audience as she weaved her magic. She posed for her audience; moonbeams and shadows. She faded away in darkness, kissing moonbeams as she disappeared.

For more writing challenges go to Scribblesoup

Friday, November 7, 2008

Sunday Scribblings #136 : Change

The Seed of Change
this story is copyrighted 2008

Episode xiii

Raven lay beside Ranger on a blanket on the grass, staring at the moon. It is their last night here, tomorrow the removalist will come and take away all their belongings and then they too, will be gone . She cradles her belly protectively in her hands. Earlier that night Ranger had told her that he wanted to try for a baby. She wasn't sure if she was ready, if they were ready for this kind of change. They were moving to another state to another job. She whispers a little prayer to the moon, "Please, show me the way," before sleep finally claims her.

Raven is visiting Wolf, the Wood Witch as she is known to her friends. They sit in silence by the fire, sipping chai.
"Mmm, nice," Raven says, as the chai makes its way down her throat, warming her insides deliciously.
Wolf looks up from the cards spread out before them and smiles.
"You have a message here from the Moon Goddess."
"Ah, She who dwells in dreams," Raven muses.
"You must go outside and pick a fig from the tree," Wolf tells her.
Raven does as she is told, and returns with a fig in her hand. She gives Wolf the fig she has chosen. Raven sits in silence, patiently waiting as Wolf passes the fig over the flames, while she chants praises to the Moon Goddess. Finally she takes out her athame and cuts the fig in half. Inside the fig is a single seed shaped like an almond. Wolf smiles.
"You're going to have a baby," she says, taking a bite of the flesh.

Raven wakes with a start. There is something stuck in her mouth. She spits it out onto her hand. It is a seed, shaped like an almond.

For more information visit SundayScribblings

Scribble Soup for Writers' Block #3: Writing sentences without the letter 't'.

In 10 minutes write as many sentences as you can without using the letter 't'. The sentences don't have to be related to each other.

Having lunch alone is sad.
Daydreaming is a prized hobby of mine.
Living each day happy is my goal in life.
Happiness is like sunshine keeping everyone alive.
She walked alone, wearing her pink daisy dress.
I never liked her.
Her eyes were the colour of blue ice.
I dream of you yellow daisies and purple fairies.
His hair was long and shaggy.
Sleeping is a hobby of mine.
Four leaved clovers are my lucky charms.
Holding aces up my sleeve, makes me a winner.
Laughing loudly is fun.

For more writing challenges visit Scribblesoup

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Ashes and Silt (cont...)

this story is copyrighted 2008
photo by Mr T.

Episode v

Raven sat on the porch watching as the goanna stealthily stalked its prey. She wanted to talk to Ranger about all the strange things that had occurred. She loved the house - isolated and surrounded by bushland with scenic views of the mountain ranges in the distance - but there was just something about it that made her uncomfortable. From the first moment she'd set foot in the house, she could feel it, that whisper of sadness in the air.
She'd often wondered if Ranger could sense it too. Sometimes she'd catch him gazing outside the window, his brows drawn in confusion as the sadness descended upon him. He'd shake himself out of his thoughts and turn and give her a shy guilty smile, like he'd just been caught eating the last piece of cake. She'd often asked him about it, but Ranger's response was always the usual, "It's just cabin fever."

Last night wasn't the first visit she'd had from the shadow man. A few weeks ago, Ranger had taken her swimming in the dam. They'd come back to the house, laughing and covered in mud and had quickly hosed themselves down in the yard. Ranger teased her about the streak of mud still stuck on her forehead. With a saucy look over her shoulder and a flick of her long wet hair; she had informed him that it was there on purpose, a new kind of facial mask she was trialling; before shutting the door in his face. Shrieking with laughter she ran to the bathroom with Ranger following closely behind her, and barricaded herself in. Retribution was always swift. This time, it was interrupted by the ring of the phone. She could hear Ranger's muffled conversation through the locked door while she quickly undressed.

The warm water felt like heaven as it cascaded over her naked body, washing away the last of the mud. As was her habit, she said a quick prayer of thanks and protection to the universe while she watched the water drain away. With a blissful sigh, she got out of the shower and wrapped herself up in a towel. She could still smell the rich earthy scent of the mud, as she towelled herself dry. She must have missed a spot, she thought to herself, stepping towards the mirror. She paused in mid step. On the mirror was a muddy hand print.

For a split second her heart stopped beating as fear slammed into her chest. She moved towards the door. It was unlocked. Then it hit her, Ranger must have somehow unlocked the door. This was his way of getting her back. She stuck her head out the door and said, "Ha, ha."

Ranger was listening intently to the person on the other end of the phone. He smiled absent-mindedly at her, before turning away. Raven hastily threw on her bathrobe and then set about scrubbing the mud off the mirror, humming softly to herself as she went to work. She stopped suddenly when she felt someone gently caressing her hair. A single tear slowly made its lonely journey down her face. Her heart felt like it was being torn into a million pieces. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotion. When next she opened her eyes, she was lying on the bed. Ranger stood beside the bed, prodding her awake, "Wake up sleepy head. You've got mud stuck in your hair."

Scribble Soup for Writers' Block #5: 10 words

In 10 minutes write a story using the words: laxative, doledrums. biorhythm, celestial, sedentary, ignite, twilight, wheeze, formulate and reality.

Wombat (as he was known to his friends) sat alone on his porch, reflecting on his twilight years. He hated the fact that he had let himself go, hated his sedendary life. His breathing was laboured and his lungs wheezed at every movement. His heart was slowly losing the fight, its biorhythmic beat almost coming to an end. His body was too weak to carry all that weight.

He sat and watched the heavens, contemplating the vastness of the celestial sky. Tonight the beauty and mystery of the cosmos failed to lift his doldrums. The reality was that he was dying. He needed to formulate a plan. He needed inspiration. Again he looked to the heavens. In his mind a spark of an idea ignited. Down below, his gut spasmed, reminding him of the laxative he'd taken earlier that evening.

For more information visit scribble soup

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Sunday Scribblings: Scandalous

Weddings, Scandals and Everything
this story is copyrighted 2008

Episode xii

The bride looked absolutely stunning in her ivory dress with black stripes and blood red flowers which illuminated her pale skin, giving it a pearly shimmer. The guests all commented and marvelled at how beautiful she looked. Holding a stubby in one hand, Ranger approached the bride. He winked mischievously at her before announcing to the crowd, "I'm going to ask you once, and once only. Can I wear your dress one day?"
Everyone laughed, including the bride who let out one of her famous donkey brays. This set everyone off again.

In one corner of the room Raven was busy chatting to her friend Lady Kadaver, an ex-stripper.
"I want to know who that guy is," Lady K said, indicating with a casual wave of her hand, to a group of smartly dressed people standing in the centre of the room.
"Why?" Raven answered glancing behind her at the group.
"I think he's an ex-client. He's been avoiding eye contact with me all night. His wife, or whoever she is, has been giving me the evil eye."
They looked at each other before saying in unison, "Let's go mingle!"
"If that's who I think it is, he's got a foot fetish. So show some leg," Lady K added wickedly.

Outside, the Purple Professor was one step closer to 'picking up'. According to him, weddings were the best places to meet women. He'd manage to convince Dina to come outside with him. They sat on the bench talking, though the conversation didn't really make any sense. They were both well past sobriety. He briefly registered movement to his right as another couple sat down on the bench next to them. He made his move.

The Purple Professor and Dina were deeply absorbed in their face sucking marathon when the bride stepped outside for a breather. At first she didn't notice the couple making out noisily on the bench near the entrance. She was busy talking to Ranger and Dave who had followed her out. It didn't take her long to notice though.
"Um, what is going on?" she asked taking a stunned step towards the oblivious couple.
"Shit. Double shit," Dave said.
"You've got to do something," the bride cried.
"What's going on?" Ranger asked confused.
"The Purple Professor's making out with Dina and her very recent - as in two days ago - ex, who is sitting on the next bench watching," Dave explained."The boyfriend is the wedding photographer, their best friend," he added pointing to the bride.
"On one hand I think we should do something, but on the's been a long time since The Professor's gotten any..." he added.
"You guys have to do something now," the bride said between gritted teeth.
"I guess we should try and separate the two. Dina and her ex came in the same car as the bride and groom. This is going to make the trip home pretty awkward. Got any ideas?"

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Ashes and Silt

Ashes and Silt
this story is copyrighted 2008
photo by Ben C

Episode iv

It was late by the time Raven crawled into bed, alone. Ranger was away at one of his environmental management conferences. It surprised her how much she was enjoying the solitude. Distance did make the heart grow fonder, or at least it provided the breathing space for it. With a satisfied sigh, Raven buried her head deeper into her pillow. For a brief moment she contemplated getting out of bed to shut the window. The wind which had begun as a soft purr had now worked its way into a frenzied howl. It carried with it the scent of the wilderness, that dry volatile perfume of the Australian bush. Raven let the sounds and smells lull her into sleep.

Sometime later that night, she awoke with a start. Something had pulled her from her slumber. A noise perhaps, or a feeling of being watched. She tried to move, but her limbs felt heavy and insubstantial. She fought the feeling and managed to turn her head slightly towards the window. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting shadows in the room. She didn't notice him at first; the shadow man, standing beside the bed, silently watching her. When she did finally see him, Raven felt no fear, only a sense of sadness. It was a strange kind of sadness - like a borrowed emotion - someone else's grief. He smelt of ashes and silt, reminding her of the dam below the house. She watched him for a while till sleep finally claimed her once again.

Raven's internal alarm clock went off at the usual time of 6.30 am. She got out of bed and headed to the kitchen to make herself the requisite cup of lemon myrtle tea. She loved this morning ritual. Tea cup in hand, she headed out to the back porch to sit and watch the sun rise over the horizon. She missed Ranger. She loved dragging him out of bed every morning. She'd often bribed him with breakfast in bed, food was one of the few reasons he'd even consider opening his eyes at this 'ungodly hour'.

Despite the soothing cup of tea, she was feeling anxious and on edge. Something important had occurred last night but the memory remained tantalizingly elusive. It was her day off today, so she decided to catch up on her reading in bed. Besides in her current state, she wasn't up to appreciating the view. She walked back into the kitchen and made herself another cup of tea before heading to the bedroom. Once she'd settled herself comfortably in bed, she opened her book and began to read. Five minutes later, she gave up. She couldn't concentrate. She'd give Ranger a surprise wake up call instead, she decided. Reaching blindly over to his side of the bed, she made several attempts to find the phone through the chaotic mess on his bedside table.
"Shit," she cried, as an awkwardly balanced pile of books tumbled to the floor. She rolled to his side of the bed, and flopping her torso over the edge she started to gather the books from the floor. Her hand stopped in mid action as something caught her eye. There was a set of muddy footprints on the carpet. She hauled the rest of her body out of bed, and bent down to inspect the prints. The mud was fresh and a silty brown colour. It looked like it had come from the dam.

A memory of darkness and sorrow stirred at the edges of her mind. She stood motionless, staring without seeing at the window, trying to chase the memory to the surface. An image of shadows in the dark started to form, then realisation struck with a loud bang. Time moved slowly as Raven watched the crow fly towards the closed window, like metal drawn to a magnet. With a deadly bang its body slammed into the window. Raven could only stare helplessly as the body dropped lifelessly to the ground.

Time moved forward again. Now she remembered the sad apparition in the dark. The shadow who watched her while she slept. She also remembered that the window was open last night, she hadn't bothered to shut it this morning.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Darkly Dreaming

Darkly Dreaming
this story is copyrighted 2008

Episode ix

Darkness settled in the room, like a thick blanket. It smothered the sleeping occupants, pushing them further into unconsciousness. Then into the darkness she danced. In her long black dress, and her tiny black heels laced to the knees. It was her hour. It was her room. Tonight she had company. The men she ignored, but the female - the one with the pretty long black hair - she detested. With a flick of her hand she summoned the light. In her hand it glowed like a ball of lightning. She floated about the room, searching.

Raven wasn't sure what woke her, but something was calling her from the darkness. She opened her eyes. I must be dreaming she thought to herself. Not daring to breathe, she watched the woman float towards the empty fireplace. Dressed in old fashioned mourning black, a glowing ball of light in her hand, the woman moved from one end of the fireplace to other. Searching. Then suddenly as if sensing herself being watched she turned. There was a flash of light, as she hurled the light directly at Raven. Then oblivion.

Raven woke to the sound of the pounding rain as it hit the tin roof. She needed to go. She was desperate for a pee. But the cold held her back. She moved her body closer to Ranger, who lay snoring gently beside her. Wrapping her arms around his sleeping form, she snuggled in deeper. He was burning hot. A thought occurred to her, maybe the hot water bottle was stuck somewhere in between them. With her eyes closed she fumbled about in the dark trying find it. Success, then she realised she was patting Ranger's soft bottom. The heat was coming from him.

She really needed to pee now. Raven opened her eyes slowly. There was a soft glowing light coming from outside the window. Strange she thought to herself sleepily, we didn't leave any lights on. Then from the shadows outside something moved closer to the window. Raven stiffled a gasp, willing herself not to move a single muscle. Staring intently into the dark room, her faced pressed against the glass window, the woman waited. The rain only fuelled her anger. With a knife in her hand, she watched the room like a prison guard and waited. Raven squeezed her eyes closed against the apparation, willing sleep to reclaim her.

She must have dozed, because the next time she awoke it was daylight. With daylight came the sense of relief. It must be late, she thought to herself rolling onto her side to face the empty bunk bed across the room. The boys had left her to sleep, she could hear their voices outside. Now she could pee. Raven swung her legs off the bed. With a half yawn she made her way to the door. Her steps were slow and lumberous. She swung open the door. Wow, it was beautiful outside. The air was fresh and crisp with just a hint of moisture. They had arrived at the homestead in the late evening. In the darkness it was difficult to appreciate the beauty and isolation of the landscape surrounding the house. Raven took a few moments to take in the sight before her.

Something was wrong. She could hear Marcus and Ranger talking, their voices close by. But where were they? Then she saw her. Calmly, with the hem of her black dress dragging silently behind her, the woman glided towards Raven, hands hidden behind her back. Rooted to the spot in fear, Raven could only watch as the woman came to within whispering distance.
"I'm going to murder you," she whispered in Raven's ear as she plunged the knife into her heart.

With a gasp, Raven woke. She was surrounded by darkness still. Shit, she thought to herself, placing a hand on her chest close to her pounding heart. She was dripping wet with sweat and exhausted. She needed to pee. This time the feeling was urgent. With shaking hands she reached out to Ranger and shook him awake.

Monday, October 20, 2008

The Dream Writers

The Dream Writers
this story is copyrighted 2008

There is a world beyond our dreams, existing on the edges of our imagination but not very far from where we are. It is not very far at all. In fact is is only just a porthole away...


"At the tone, it will be twenty strokes before the dream porthole closes."
"Hoot, hoot, hoo-"
There was a loud bang as the alarm owl narrowly dodged a blast from Wexland Dreamer's pen.
"Ahem, at the tone, it will be nineteen and three quarters strokes before the dream porthole closes," the suicidal alarm owl continued.
"Hoot, hoot, hoo-"

This time, the bang was followed by a shower of feathers accompanied by the smell of burnt chicken. Wexland's stomach responded by letting out a loud rumble. Surprising it was the rumbling of his stomach that woke him up.
"Hoo...huh..." puffed the alarm owl, before it fainted dead away. There was a thud as it fell from its perch and onto the floor.

With his eyes still closed, Wexland tried to unglue his face from the pile of paper he had fallen asleep upon. He almost succeeded. With his right cheek still firmly attached to a piece of paper Wexland dragged himself to the kitchen and stuck his head in the fridge. The blast of cold air on his face finally managed to peel the last of the sleep from his mind. He pulled himself out of the fridge, but not before grabbing a slice of rhubarb and cherry pie.

It wasn't until his stomach was full (this required polishing off the rest of the pie as well as a pumpkin and five peas) that he noticed the smell.
"Fiddle cakes!" he cried.
With a little panicked hop, Wexland launched himself into the air and attempted to fly. There was a few seconds of triumph before he hit the floor with thud. For a stunned moment, Wexland lay on the floor. After the brief moment of confusion, Wexland realised that his wings had been confiscated (for violating section 13, that is flying while operating a mobile pigeon phone) . Picking himself up, he ran into his room and tripped over the fallen alarm owl. At exactly ten strokes to the dream porthole closes, Wexland's nose, followed by the rest of him, came to a skidding halt in front of the pigeon phone.
"You have a message," the pigeon phone announced despondently.
"Umph," Wexland grunted in reply.
"Press one, if you would like to listen to the message. Huh...two if you...well you know the drill."
From his position on the floor, Wexland reached up and pressed one. There was an unhappy sqwark as the pigeon phone squeezed out a message egg. The egg fell through the air and landed with a messy splat on the floor.
"Message received at eighty two strokes before the dream porthole closes. This is Dreamwriters Central, you have been reassigned to Billy Kramer, aged eight. His file will be faxed to you following this message."

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Princess Rainbow Light and the Curra Moors Trail

Written by @lillyasia and Princess Rainbow Light
Photos (stolen with permission) by Ranger Falls
this story is copyrighted 2008

Once upon a time, there was a very beautiful princess. Her name was Princess Rainbow Light. Princess Rainbow Light lived in a castle in the sky above Black Mountain. The princess was a very special girl because she had magical rainbow coloured hair.

One day Princess Rainbow Light, Queen Magnificent, King Matsuba, the servant and cook went on an adventure. They set off to find the Magical Pinky-Purple Rose of the Enchanted Royal Forest.

To find the Magical Pinky-Purple Rose they first had to follow the Curra Moors Trail to the edge of Eagle Rock. Along the way, it started to rain.

It rained and rained for days but Princess Rainbow Light and her friends did not get wet. This was because the Princess had used her magical rainbow hair to shelter everyone from the rain.

However the rain made the trail very slippery and dangerous. So the Princess plucked one of her magical rainbow hair and chanted, “Rain, rain go away. Come again another day.”
Princess Rainbow Light’s friends all cheered and clapped when it stopped raining.

The next day, they came upon a babbling brook.
“It is too deep here. We have to swim to the other side,” said the cook.
“Oh no, I cannot swim!” cried Queen Magnificent.
“Babble babble dibble dabble,” said the brook.
“Dibble dabble babble jibble,” Princess Rainbow Light answered, for no-one else could understand the brook.
“It’s all right the brook said that we can use the stepping stones to get to the other side. Follow me,” said Princess Rainbow Light.

Next they came upon the haunted bush of Curra Moors. The trees were so tall they blocked out the sunlight. Princess Rainbow Light’s friends were all scared of the dark.
“It’s okay. I will shine my magical light upon everyone, so we could all see where we are going,” said Princess Rainbow Light.

A few hours later they left the haunted bush of Curra Moors behind them.
“Look it’s Eagle Rock!” shouted the cook excitedly.
However they first had to pass the waterfall.
“How do we cross the waterfall?” asked King Matsuba and the servant.
“I will build a bridge with my magical rainbow hair,” answered the Princess.

Not long after, they arrived at Eagle Rock where they encountered the Tadpole People.
“Halt. Who dares go here?” asked the king of the Tadpole People.

“It is I – Princess Rainbow Light – and my friends, Queen Magnificent, King Matsuba, the cook and servant. We’ve come to find the Magical Pinky-Purple Rose of the Enchanted Royal Forest,” the Princess bravely replied.
“I will show you the way but first you must answer this riddle. Many call me the Magical Pinky-Purple Rose of the Enchanted Royal Forest but I am known by two other names. What are they?” said the king of the Tadpole People.
“Um…” said the servent.
“Ooh…” said Queen Magnificent.
“Ahh…” said King Matsuba.
“Urgh…” said the cook.
“I know,” said Princess Rainbow Light.

“The Magical Pinky-Purple Rose of the Enchanted Royal Forest is also called the Native Rose or Boronia serrulata,” answered the Princess.

“You are correct. To find the Magical Pinky-Purple Rose of the Enchanted Royal Forest, you must enter the Hidden Caves and then climb the Cliff To Nowhere,” said the king.
So they set off to the Hidden Caves at the edge of Curra Moors. It was very dangerous for one wrong step could send them tumbling down into the sea.

Next they had to climb the Cliff To Nowhere. However the climb was very steep and slippery. So the Princess used her magical rainbow hair to make a ladder. And there on top of the cliff they found the Magical Pinky-Purple Rose of the Enchanted Royal Forest.

Now Princess Rainbow Light and her friends smell like roses. Except the cook, he still smells like dead fish.