Check out this mini-story I made as a slideshow

View slideshow I hope you enjoy it!

Inanimatealice project from iStories

This blog is, as from today (12 Dec. 2009), a tribute to James Hadley Chase, who wrote with great precision zillions of novels set in the USA , without (hardly)ever having set foot in it. I hope I can measure up to him -even if only just a bit.

Afterthought

After some painstaking and futile attempts I've realised that Chase must have been a much more conscientious man when it came to geographical accuracy (or just plainly much more into maps than I am). So, while still dedicated to him, I hope readers will forgive -and perhaps enjoy- some creative licence on my part...

Wednesday 27 January 2010

THE RESPONSE THAT MYSTIC CAT GOT


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                                               WHAT NOW? WILL MYSTIC CAT EVER GET HER TREAT?
                                                        WILL MOUSE FIND RAYMOND?

Psychic Raymond


Psychic Raymond
Originally uploaded by essellejaye









As long as we're on the road looking for a psychic...







                                                                            Poster seen in a local cafe window.


                             Who could have predicted that the url on the poster would turn out to be a dead link?
                                                                                                      (caption (in black) by esselljaye as well)

Tuesday 26 January 2010

Mystery Mystical Tour

As I said before, Journeys don't necessarily require us to pack our bags or even change physical location...Today we'll be trying a journey into the spiritual world. We couldn't get a reputable channelling guide, but she'll do her best. Let's see how it goes...




Hope you enjoyed the journey :)

Sunday 24 January 2010

Travelling without roads: "FOAF"

Uploaded to Flickr by calmansi.

FOAF= Friend Of A Friend

We don't always need to make suitcases and use maps to embark on journeys...just think of all the journeys that are possible by connecting to others.

Friday 1 January 2010

Postcards

It's a summer weekend somehwere in the North-East of England, near Norwich. It's sunny and the end of a hectic week during which new acquaintances were made amidst an appreciated full schedule of lessons. Some of us even tried out new food, with different outcomes -one of those (the dreadful French toast H. didn't see coming as sweet) will become a landmark and will add a new loyal and assiduous customer to one of the big supermarkets in the area. A safe lunch is a must.

Today the weather's perfect as it can get, not the slightest hint of rain in the air. We get off the coach at the pier and there's your hustle and bustle of people waiting for the next boat tour, gladly killing time with snapshots and introductions and tales of the previous day and our new and fleeting everyday lives.

We get a sign to get on the boat, which will not really take us anywhere but around this man-made piece of water -is it a lake? a river? I don't remember, but nice houses have been built on the shores and people wave and smile at us and I'm eager to see the black swan I was promised -that, well, now English but originally foreign swan with a romantic story behind (was Churchill involved? Wasn't it about a bet? Vague recollections only). We take a turn and I see it, and it's even more exciting than I'd expected: it looks daring, bold, with an orange tip just on top of its bill. And of course it's Odile, and I can hear the music inside my head -see those defying arabesques and the moment when you feel the torment, the futile banging on the Palace windows while Siegfried is enthralled, entranced, with eyes only for that beautiful captivating black figure. Despairingly, we all know this will only lead to that fatal, inevitable breaking of the oath. And the music
grows louder and fills my head and we're now seeing trees and ducks (some really strange -Chinese originally?) but I can only pay so much attention because mi mind is still with Odette. She's alone now, apparently there is a companion but he must be hiding somewhere...And Odile may be pure and loving and the right one with that beautiful ground-breaking adagio but my heart is secretly and inexplicably with Odette.


And when we're back on the coach chatting and snacking we look at our photos and I see the beginning, when the true oath was made, in a picture gracefully captured by Pearl: