The bookmark reflection

‘Hate that book’ – he muttered – looking at rather than talking to his phone.  Walking faster now he arrived at the bookshop and glanced up.  A woman was sitting there reading a book – he could see through the window – just sipping a coffee and kind of smiling, deep in reading thought.  He thought he recognized the book and one he had recently read himself.

‘Hi’ he said catching her eye on entering the shop.  ‘Hello’ she said carefully looking him over and suddenly not smiling.

‘I loved that….Jane Cenion really knows how to write.’ he said, pointing at her book.

‘Yes, I like it as well’ she said.  Determined not to keep going with this conversation.

—-

‘What are you reading ?’ she asked, quite sure that he probably wasn’t reading anything.

‘Oh – just some dumb book someone gave me.  I hate it.’

‘Oh really ?’ she enquired, suddenly brightening.

‘Ah you woudn’t know it.  It’s called Grimus’.

‘O – I’ve read that.   What else do you hate ?’ – she said.

Well – so he started, remembering at random almost all the books that he hated. Kids books, Celeb Biography, Poetry, History books.  Fiction books with no plot.  Anything so called post modern.  After a while he noticed she’d been taking a list of all the books he hated so much.

‘What are you doing ?? he demanded !’.

“Oh it’s nothing – don’t worry. I’m on a 365 challenge you know.  I’ve found it hard but a focus to read all the books that people tell me they hate.  People love to hate things, you know, different reasons. Even things they start out loving and saying how great they are.  They can end up hating with a passion.   So anyway, I made it a thing to read all the ‘hated’ books.” – she said.

 

Little Black Book - Tersiiska

He sat down now, opposite her without asking.  Looking down he saw a little black book that she put thelist of hated things on.  While sitting there suddenly silent. Lost for words.  She picked up the little black book, pressed a small button and the eBook flashed to life.

‘Look’ she said showing him.

Wow!. An ebook that actually looks like a notebook he thought.

A table of contents appeared and in it he could see for himself.  At least 50 titles.  All books he hated.. but no .. there were some of his favourite books in there. ‘How could anyone hate that book?   ..  I loved that book !’ he said, looking up at her.

‘Yes but I found that now I love all of the books that people love to hate and I love to understand now why the authors had written them.

Suddenly he felt exhausted.  Not only were some of the books those he loved but others things that his friends had said they hated.  All listed and downloaded into the little black book.  Slowly he got up suddenly feeling trapped and claustrophobic, he had to get out of the shop. Walking toward the door he saw his own face in the reflection of the glass door.  Grimus he thought. ‘ Perhaps I’ll read it’. What else did Rushdie write ?.

 

Photo: Tersiiska/Flickr – Copyright 2014.

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3 Blokes in a Balloon

Tersiiska Balloon

Three blokes decided to chance it and get up in a balloon one cold still morning.  They’d all come from different directions, having been individually sent invitations from a mysterious donor.  Kind of a gift card with a free balloon flight.

The balloon took off on time at 6am sharp in the cool morning air, the driver skillfully manipulating the gas burner, making the balloon just skim the treetops, nice and level, barely moving in the still air.

The driver handed around some Brut in champagne flutes. ‘Here’s to our new adventure’ he said. ‘You know – people have been riding balloons since the French invented them for over 200 years now. Very safe you are.’ he said.

After drinking the three guys were having a conversation about the effect of alcohol on the balloon.  The first guy said, ‘you know I think that the driver was a little ‘heavy handed with the champagne and that’s what made the balloon sink just now… too heavy handed.’

The second guy was feeling a bit light headed and seemed to feel even more light headed as the balloon started to rise.  This was probably due to his almost unbearable lightness of being.

The third guy was becoming less and less down to earth and then started making even more light of the situation with his incredibly unsubtle and weak minded jokes.  Thus the balloon kept rising .. the balloon did not stop rising until it had reached at least 10000 feet and the guys were worried that they might suffer from lack of oxygen.  The true gravity of the situation then hit them like a ton of bricks.  The balloon descended rapidly due to the additional weight and then they guys all started throwing gold bricks overboard.  It doesn’t take too many bricks to make a ton but that is not the point really.  Overboard with all the gold from the early morning rays of the sun and the balloon gradually leveled out again.

‘More Champagne ?’ asked the driver.

 

 

 

Photo courtesy Tersiiska:Flickr Copyright 2014

A Brumby with Bangles

Tersiiska Bangles

 

I found the first bangles in a dream.  We’d been climbing a steep volcanic mountain, and as we got back down below the snow layer the white melted out into a field of slippery silver bangles.  They had a kind of strange magnetism and as I got down to collect them they would fling away at high speed and land with a tinkle at some distance.  After a while I realized that the more I tried to collect them the more the ground cleared away to the black lava field underneath and in the end… frustration.  It’s not the first dream of frustration felt.  But I did not wake up in frustration but walking, some of the bangles caught on my foot and I managed to collect a few.  After waking I struggled to remember what happened next. I’d no idea what to do with the bangles  I had in my hand, so I’d thrown them  in a drawer in my desk, where all other travel collectibles are. I had no idea who I’d been climbing with either.  She’d been there climbing too but seemingly not interested in the bangles but wanted to get into the white zone at the top of the mountain. Did she come down ? No idea ? but I know when I woke I was in my room in my hotel nowhere near snow and out in the outback, far from any mountain.  But I opened the drawer and there they were, the bangles.

She’d been dreaming of riding a wild brumby in the snow country down through the rafts of snowgums, down to the creek.  The snow gums white trunks flashed by. The trees parted as the horse charged through them, shifting aside and springing back in time with the gallop. But then she felt as though falling and the ground rising up to become snow and white and cool.

As I got dressed I saw that the hotel had some prints of the snow country on the wall.  Memories of Clancy of the Overflow perhaps.  Hotel decor was low cost and somewhat stereotyped.   I imagined that all other rooms in the hotel had similar prints.  I opened the door and the light from my room streamed into the darkened corridor.

“What are you doing here ?” I asked on leaving my room.  There in the darkened cool corridor was a woman wearing the bangles I’d put in my drawer.

“What are you doing here ?” She asked with some affront. She looked past me into my room and her expression changed.  I turned around and saw she’d been looking at the print on the wall.  The one with the horses and snowgums.

“I’ve opened the door on my dream reality of bangles” I said.

“That’s funny – there is my brumby dream on your wall” She said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo Courtesy Tersiiska / Flickr / Bangles

related but interesting history gemaffair

Kind of Blue Drop

Tersiiska Blue Water Drop

o

0

drrrrrrrrop p p

modal

so what !

Its a kind of blue

waiting blue plumbago on green leaves

waiting.. growing.. ready to fall

all together in a modal 12 bars for Freddie

still in the gravity of the dance the flamenco sketches

free for the blues moments but who cares

falling fast with the weight of its reflection

reflections in reversals

kind of blue

photo courtesy of Tersiiska on flickr