Fizzbomb_incendiary

Illusion of memories Part 3

2007-11-11T08:44:00.000-08:00

Later that same day, to be precise at Lambfurrow House, the table looked simply superb, all brim full chargers that were carried in redeemed themselves one after another… Waistcoats were comfortably relaxed, but uncomfortably tight, for as the evening wasted, it was discovered that unfortunately food poisoning had transpired. Thus each person supposed this was going to be a difficult meal to waddle away from upright.

… Apart from August, whom it turned out had admirably resisted the lobster twice in one day!

Well due to the unpredictable nature of the repast calamity, it was then decided that everyone should stay overnight, and arrangements were thus ordered.

‘Everyone’ turned out to be only the two aunts, Uncle Algie, the virtuoso cellist, and husband of Aunt Agnetha, the ‘boys’ and of course Florella with a strangely fastened pale cream hair ribbon in predictably poor taste, for it would slip slowly towards her chin every so often, and look rather like a limp bandage, for toothache.

As the night drew on, Lady Agnetha decided to wait until the morning to try to procure her objective, and spent most of the night awake, wondering whether one should modify one's plans, or at any rate whether the cost borne was worth the trouble taken.

The next day, the wolfhound, called many names most of which are unprintable, but fondly called ‘Gramps’, by the cook who cherished the slavering mutt, decided to bark and bark terrified as it was by a small reddish squirrel. It had then taken to running through the house from room to room startling the sluggish guests by it’s wishing to share it’s excitement without regard for the privacy or discomfort of these fragile beings.

Faces that had remained greyish green for much of the night, this morning appeared much improved and less of an eyesore for August. The sun was rather warm and on a bright Monday – a holiday, for that part of the country, the fresh air was quite invigorating!

August had sauntered around the vegetable garden, every so often stabbing a weed that his cane’s spiked end encountered, every so often; he stared up into the sky, as if there were some angelic memorandum there, for his face was suffused with the most extraordinarily divine brightness.

Of course such appearances are often what unfortunately ensnare many a naive being.

So unbeknown to him, he was watched intently with the intensity of a lovesick person.

Florella, pulled back the drapes, and nervously applied her lipstick, without taking her quiet deluded eyes off the tall, elegant form that at that exact moment was stabbing carelessly at what appeared to be a small fallen violet. He stooped to pick a couple of perfect buds, and added them to his buttonhole after smelling their damp sweetness.

Then he disappeared around the privet.

Sleek and sly thoughts Part 2

2007-11-11T08:42:00.000-08:00

Every so often he would take a lingering sip of his dry wine, licking his lips and dabbing his wet whiskers. He resembled the sleekest hawk, with the elegance of a leopard, and had the same long eyelashes, the same stillness and ambiguous dangerous charm.

He was altogether too handsome for any audience, but at this moment, his aunt was browsing her mental library for a reason to meet with them both. For her last communication to August was to remind him that she was not speaking to him for the duration of Whitsunday, since he had forgotten to take with him the large Hound he had let loose the summer before, which refused to take heed of anyone but the portly cook, who irreverently fed him the best scraps from Benice’s table. Irony was the (delicate) toothpick of scorn.

This was Whitsunday.

August’s new dress shirt singularly missed one key accessory, cufflinks… He found that concentrating on his lunch was exceedingly hard whilst he left eye kept catching a glimpse of those superb, excruciatingly joyous jewels, styled as acorns, whilst rather late for the seasons harvest, nevertheless a veritable inspirational nut! And August was always in the pursuit of inspiration and to be royally inspired!

So much was he intent on procuring these, whilst juggling his own meagre finances, especially as he was rather insolvent, himself, was of such force that he hardly noticed that his Auntie was inch by inch dragging her chair, table and lunch guest, cousin Florella, the silly drab girl, who had disorderly giggles whenever he spoke to her, which would leave him in mystification, such that he would sometimes just turn on his heel and walk away.

When he looked up, Auntie was smiling with the widest of eyes so much that the white in them appeared to appear rather like white bread in Delphic blue saucers.

Florella, tried to suppress her nervous laugh, but now she had globules of gravy glistening from the corner of her lips. August shuddered, her limp fine hair and rather prominent masculine nose, her thin lips and pale insipid features always caused an irrational infliction of intestinal, unintentional distress.

Add to this that she was inordinately clumsy and he felt that to forewarn any of his friends, who from time to time fell silly crushes for her (and her mother’s fabulous wealth) was second only to paying his card debts, so he scrupulously avoided both.

‘Hello Auntie, please feel free to join us, oh you already have…’

Her intrusive yet subtle statement was such that one could hardly refuse a revision in seating arrangements so now they were all rather squeezed elbow touching at the circular table. The air was warm and felt thick and stifling now that his relatives were thrust upon him, he sighed and looking up as indifferently as possible at the group, with a sense of expectation, he glanced carelessly at the Lobster tank, without appearing too occupied.

He hoped she was going to offer to pay for lunch, since he fancied the boiled red lobster, garnished with soft parsley, wild mushrooms and more creamy asparagus….

Otherwise he would have to settle for the ham-on-the-bone, and a cold limp salad. Clearly Hadley was also financially busted today, and this had already ruined the first course, and left him in a rather awkward predicament.

Benice, continued to smile (wretchedly, as she now began to have a jaw ache, but soldered on)… ‘I wonder if you boys would do me an awful good turn, I am rather at a loss as to how to begin, but it seems that I am two short for this evenings dinner, and it would be so accommodating if you would both attend, and of course Hadley, your mother is already coming, so why don’t you drive her over, in your rather nice motor-vehicle, if you do not exceed 30 ‘minutes per mile’, I know she will be all the better for the journey. By the way would you ask her to bring her pen, you know the one, for I think I have some spare nibs for it, and it would be more practical to check for myself that they fit!’

Since both had the same thought cross their minds, which was a gratis banquet, the ‘boys’ heartily agreed, to which Florella, spattered her orange pips as she burst into an incontrollable irrepressible giggle fit. The waiter unfortunately was at that moment about to pour more wine and some of these pips plastered his left ear, in fact some actually went further!

The freshly slaughtered lobster was quite simply delicious but for the orange pips.

Irreverence ... PART 1

2007-10-31T16:32:00.001-07:00

To win a pen or pen a win

Sun Tzu would have said....

Of Auntie, Lady Agnetha Clusum: A clever general, therefore, avoids an army when

its spirit is keen, but attacks it when it is sluggish

and inclined to return. This is the art of studying moods.

Of August: Disciplined and calm, to await the appearance

of disorder and hubbub amongst the enemy:--this is the art

of retaining self-possession.

[August Leopard Tales, By Sapphire]

Lady Agnetha Clusum took her morning repose, whilst sipping tea from a ‘willow, and Japanese bridge’, painted teacup, the design was called: ‘the bridge bends willow’s whisper’. The dazzling rising sun made the morning room glow and flames licked the walls as sunlight reflected from the fountain beneath her window. This was one of her latest decorative additions to the rather commonplace lawns, and was irregularly situated below her balcony.

The water sculpture, composed of a small statue of a nymph kneeling atop a stone plinth, which had an open mouthed water sprite, from whose lips squirted a rather dismal spray. The serenity which it had suggested when she chose it, (Persephone kneeling…lovingly) was far from the reality now she had it cemented into place… the trickling, motion of the water suggested less calm and tranquillity and more the image of waddling in ankle deep sea, in Southport, certainly not entirely soothing, few could sit near it without feeling restless.

Regrettably, the handsome water sprite looked remarkably like her nephew, but the nymph was quite unlike her daughter. Worst of all, it had not integrated with the garden foliage and plants, and looked rather isolated leaving much to be anticipated. In fact her husband had muttered under his breath that what it was missing was a tarpaulin!

The next plan was to create an arbour of vines, to surround it entirely, therefore revitalising the side of the house, and the inexorable fountain might be stifled in sound and vision.

It was just after ‘elevenses’, and her buttered muffin, had sat hardened like an Indian rubber ball flattened under foot, for about three quarters of an hour, with a disappointed bite missing from its perimeter. At the table, flame red azalea, her favourite bloom, reminded her that she needed some new nibs for her fountain pen, because when Lady Benice Morrow gave the plant, she was thinking the exact same thing.

Now she rather liked Benices’ own sterling silver fountain pen, it had yet to be engraved, and was quite possibly a gift from her irascible son, Hadley, ungifted with a hopeless quest for race wins, during some skittish argument between them. He was known to always gift her when they had a disagreement of colossal proportions. After what was always a heated mudslinging bout between them, there was a short break where they sulked and eventually a cordial gift would pass hands, and no more would be said of the matter.

Now that pen, with it’s inlaid gunmetal, marquisates was rather fetching and it would improve vastly when it was held in Agnetha’s clutch, for it matched her earrings, from Dewksberry’s the jeweller’s in Nartan Town.

Since Agnetha had already procured a pretty handkerchief, with lacy scalloped edging, and delicately embroidered with a Florentine urn overflowing with cheerful nasturtiums, as well as receiving an irreverent feather boa, the colour of a peachy crab, from Benice, already this past month, she was praying for a thoughtful, undetected scheme.

After all, she thought it would be careless to replay the tactics, which have given you one conquest, and she decided it was far better to let her next line of attack be regulated by the endless range of circumstances that would present themselves.

So it was three days later, she overheard Hadley, agitatedly bemoaning to her nephew August, that he was shockingly close to being disastrously ruined, for should he lose this months allowance he may have to pawn his Sherberry pocketwatch, and Waston & Leek, cufflinks.

In the meantime August was attempting to buy the cufflinks, shrewd that he was and always keen on ensuring that when opportunity struck his way it was to the least line of resistance, at cost.

August’s silver spoon moved away from his chest out scooping the warm asparagus cream, and then up to his newly trimmed whiskered upper lip, whilst he nodded attentively.

Fizz-bomb Incendiary - Introduction

2007-10-31T15:40:00.000-07:00