21 December 2014

Misappropriation

A gay rights group
subverted
to undermining
marriage;
a valid goal,
perhaps,
but why conflate,
obscure
or hide
your goal?
Why not give
an honest choice?

A trans group
diverted to modifying
gender roles
or accepting
fashionable rules
for gender
equality,
the former
most definitely
a valid and noble
goal,
the latter misguided,
flawed,
and based on
erroneous views
of the real world,
but,
again,
why conflate,
obscure
or hide
your goal?
Why not give
an honest choice?

More spectacular,
a rebel alliance,
freeing, perhaps
a nation
from tyranny
is rent asunder
when one rebel group,
so says another,
tries to subvert
change
to change as it defines.

We take what’s opportune
it seems to me,
but not necessarily,
what’s right,
too dedicated to goals
to think
does the end
truly justify
this means,
this misappropriation
of another
noble purpose?


Copyright © Kayleen White, 2013 I undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit, of course :)

31 October 2014

Port Sorell, Tasmania (photographs)




















Copyright © Kayleen White, 2014 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication) I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :)

21 September 2014

[Content Warning] Destructo

Before I was born
did I sign
some secret deal
a hidden accord
with Shiva
or Kali
or Skuld?

I seem
it sems to me
to cause such
pain
and ... endings
and destruction
wherever I go,
whatever I do.

Bonds break;
that which was
taken for
granted
can
no longer
be;
relationships split
- parent from child,
- brother from sister,
all changes
twould seem
that lead to
better things,
changes torn and new
but
offset by
that which is
newly minted,
and yet ...
and yet ..
did I sign some thing?

Copyright © Kayleen White, 2012 I undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit, of course :)

31 July 2014

Mt Wellington, Tasmania (photographs)

These photos were taken a few years ago.























Copyright © Kayleen White, 2014 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication) I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :)

21 June 2014

[Content Warning] The Stupid

Ah, the stupidity of the stupid
- "Hey Man" to all
and sundry,
male and female,
too stupid to
notice
any offence.

It's right uyp there,

there with
the presumption
"Of course we all want 
what ever I say 
we all want." 

They're both up there
with those who ignore
"neither a borrower nor
a lendr
be",
and get caught out
with misplace tools
- accidentally, of course,
or ... I forgot.

All of them
they're all up
there,
there with
the chicken
that won't
fly the coup,
and
the dreamer
who let
the dream
die.

Copyright © Kayleen White, 2012 I undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit, of course :)

20 June 2014

Yuletide Blessing

My snoz ..
is froz. 

This is NOT Copyright, as someone somewhere MUST have thought of this previously ... I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :)

04 June 2014

[Content Warning] A slow drowning

In war
a soldier may die
- unable to move,
injured,
slipping down
into the mud
- an inexorable
unimaginable
drowning.

In peace
a commuter may die
unable to leave,
trapped,
slipping deeper
into debt
and misery
- an inexorable
imaginable
metaphorical
drowning.


Copyright © Kayleen White, 2014 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication) I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :)

[Content Warning] Isolation

The person adrift
in a small boat 
is not alone
- just different
to all the life teeming
in that greatest
of salty deserts ...
the sea.

The friendless one,
the isolated,
is not alone
- just different
to all the 'life' mouldering
in that greatest
of spiritual deserts ...
the city.


Copyright © Kayleen White, 2014 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication) I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :)

[Content Warning] Addictions

Drugs
- they're a modern plague,
'tis said,
 chemical ways of forgetting,
seeking a moments release
after which
the pain's not gone
it's there, mayhap even
redoubled.

But the chemicals,
alcoholic and other, 
are not the only surcease:
there's also the lure
of the great weekend,
or the great lay,
after which
the pain's not gone
it's there, mayhap even
redoubled,
and our sorry, sorry lives,
stay unremarked,
unchanged, and
unimproved,
as greedy, shallow
and material
as ever, and still
unremarked
by heads up
collective rears.


Copyright © Kayleen White, 2014 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication) I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :)

31 May 2014

The Tara Dale Chronicles: Tara and the Supernova



A key part of shamanism is what is termed journeying to the Underworld. The Underworld is that place of energies, entities and intelligences which is behind, interpenetrates and influences our physical world. Some people equate it to a form of the astral world, that nonphysical realm that people go to between incarnations, a world quite distinct from our physical reality, but it is more a cross between the etheric, the nonphysical world just behind and interpenetrating and, in many cases, supporting our world (and hence the sense of similarity for those not paying attention), and … a parallel universe for nature spirits and Nature sitting at right angles – metaphorically - to our reality.
Journeys are usually done individually, seeking answers to questions, knowledge, power or, in the last few decades, a cute or exciting new experience to add to one’s lifetime CV.
Those who know what they’re doing, however, can journey as a group. Harry was a red haired Celt who knew what he was doing; Tara, Greg and Ky had been on plenty of group journeys with him before, so they knew the drill also.
Harry had set special stones around them in the shape of a canoe, and began his drumming. The other three lay down, and went into trance with the ease of practice, and would be joined by Harry after he split his consciousness – a knack that had taken around three years of practice to develop – so that he could also continue the drumming, as well as journey with them. Usually they would come to an awareness of being in the canoe with paddles in their hand, and would join Harry in the task of moving them along their journey by their paddling – which could be strangely physically exhausting, at times, strange given that it was all in some nonphysical realm, not the physical, where their bodies would lay, more or less relaxed, although maybe twitching from time to time.
Greg, who, with his dark hair and swarthy good looks was sometimes described as a blue eyed homage to Omar Sharif, commented “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about blisters.”
Ky replied “True, but I was getting so much practice for dragon boat racing.”
Ky’s heritage was Asian – his name, in fact, was Con Ton, but a drunk has said it sounded like Kyneton, the town he was living in at the time, and the nickname Ky had stuck. Dragon boat racing, where long, relatively narrow boats were moved at his speed by teams of skilled, trained paddlers, was a part of his heritage – a part that had been adopted in his family’s adopted homeland.
Tara, often the leader of their little group, laughed. “Hah! When you have even sat in a dragon boat, Ky?”
He smiled back at her. “Oh my parents took me to a few regattas in Hong Kong and Malaysia as part of Harvest Moon or New Year festivals.”
At that moment Harry appeared, slightly damp, and energetically paddling. He slowed, and stopped, as he realised he was dripping on the control room floor of ...
“Yes”, commented Tara “It’s a submarine” and she arched her monobrow – a brow that was a heritage, according to her mother, an Italian witch, of their mixed southern European ancestry.
“Do you get mileage upgrades of canoes?” asked Greg.
“Maybe it’s a covered version in case of rain?” suggested Ky.
Harry stuttered, and then restated the obvious.
“It’s … it’s a … a submarine.”
He continued “I’ve never been on a submarine before, and this has never happened to me. Or to anyone I know. Holy cow!”
“Cool, eh?” commented Greg.
“Yes” replied Ky, “but how do we control it? Where are we?”
“How do we see where we are? And where we’re going?” asked Harry.
“And WHY are we?” added Tara.
At that, the intrepid foursome were quiet.
Greg asked Harry “Can you feel your silver cord?”
The silver cord was a link between the nonphysical and physical body that people who astral travelled were often aware of.
“No,” replied Harry “but I never can on a shamanic journey. It’s just not a part of this way of working - not for me, at any rate.”
Tara had walked to the front of what was evidently the control room. She’d never been on a submarine before, but it looked like what she’d seen on movies. She sat in what was obviously the helm – or the ‘steering station’, she found herself thinking of it, and looked at what she was thinking of as the control yoke, or what most people would call ‘the steering wheel’, although it was truly more like the control yoke of a plane than a car’s steering wheel, as it could also be moved backwards and forwards. She looked up at the display panels. They had no writing or numbers on them, just swirling patterns of colours, almost like a very mild version of kaleidoscopes.
“Think any of this works?” she called out.
They joined her, and Harry said “OK, I’m going to try my ordinary old psychic sensing first.”
Greg commented, respectfully “Friend, there is nothing ordinary about your sensing.”
They smiled at each other while Tara rolled her eyes and growled “Love fest later, work now.”
“Yes boss” replied Harry.
“Yes, ma’am” added Greg, clicking his heels smartly as he stood to what he thought of as military attention.
A few minutes later, they all had to concede defeat. None of the dials or knobs beside the display screens did anything. Stunned, they sat in various places about the control room. Curious and mournful, Ky placed his hand on the panel he faced. Immediately it cleared, and he had a vision of – maybe of what was outside. He could see balls of fire, some exploding, like a distorted view of stars in space.
Excited, he yelled “Hey people! Look here – or no, touch the panels in front of you!”
Greg rushed over to Ky and gazed. Harry reached out, hesitated, and then strode to Tara and placed a hand on the panel in front of her. They could see a ‘star’ directly in front of them, and getting closer. In an instinctive reaction, Tara wrenched the yoke over, and the star starting shifting to side of the screen.
Behind them, Greg called out “Hey, it’s shifting.”
Harry yelled back “Tara’s steering! Greg, get those two back corner panels, and look behind us and to the starboard.”
“Starboard?”
“The right – the side opposite Ky!”
“Oh!” he replied, and enthusiastically complied.
“Hey”, Greg commented, “There’s a big glow from the bottom of this screen.”
“Same here”, added Ky.
Tara could see the same, as Harry spoke.
“Tara, effectively you’re flying underwater, or wherever it is we are. When you turn the wheel, think of it as turning flaps on the outside of the plane, and that sets up forces which turn us. If you do that gently, we should be able to see what’s causing that glow.”
Tara nodded, and turned, but hauled back on the yoke as she did so, and commented “Let’s look at it while we’re going away, shall we?”
Harry nodded, sweating, and moments later Greg yelped.
“We almost collected that star!”
“OK, people” Tara replied, “You watch and tell me what’s going on, and I’ll steer. Harry?”
“Yes?”
“Can you start thinking about what we’re doing here, and how we get out?”
Harry, dependable, unflappable Harry, was sweating as the others looked at him. He straightened, and flexed his shoulders. “Yep, I’ll see what I can work out.”
Harry closed his eyes, and started meditating. “This .. submarine thing feels like a shell … it’s almost like someone has set up some protection about us.” After a pause, he mumbled “But who, and why?”
Moments later, his eyes flew open, and he took his hand off the screen.
“Harry!”
He ignored Tara, grabbed a set of headphones hanging nearby and put them on. His eyes widened, and he grabbed another set and put them on Tara as he called to the others to do the same. He slammed his hand back on the screen and grinned as Tara’s eyes widened even more and she looked up at him.
“Yes” he replied, “that’s sonar – and you can still hear me, right?”
She nodded, as the others commented that they could hear as well.
Greg added “What’s that sound in the background?”
Harry closed his eyes to listen more carefully, and hazarded a guess that it could be the stars they were going by. Greg nodded, and added that he was sure it was, as he could hear them getting further away if he looked at the rear screen.
“So these magical headphones work wherever we’re looking, folks”, he finished.
Tara took a breath.
“OK, so we’re now in control of this ... shamanic submarine, and we can interact with the environment, and steer. None of that tells us why we’re here.”
“Or” added Ky, “how we get back.”
The three looked at Harry, who shrugged his shoulders and sweated a little more.
Greg spoke. “Actually, it seems clear that someone put us here who had our wellbeing in mind. Sure, they could have done so a little more thoughtfully, but we’re protected, and have a little control. All we need is a guide of some sort.”
At that they heard a clanging sound from the top of the submarine, and looked up.
Harry grinned and laughed maniacally, and gently stopped Tara as she started to wrench at the control yoke.
“It’s our guide” he explained. “Just wait a moment.”
Moments later they gasped as a dragon swam into view, turned to look at them, and winked.
She was a dragon in the Western style - with a somewhat rotund body and a tail, not the Asian serpent style. Golden coloured with green eyes, she was a magnificent sight.
“Wow” commented Greg.
“Yeah … what he said” added Tara.
“How can it swim in space?” asked Ky.
They looked at him and he shrugged. “I grew up with dragons – and dragon boats, so … no big deal.”
Harry coughed. “Well, first off, she is definitely a she.”
“Yeah?” asked Tara, “so how do you know that?”
“She’s been communicating with me – telepathically, I guess you’d say, this last minute or so.”
“Why you?” asked Greg.
“Ah, people? Have a look. Outside. Is she … in pain?” said Ky.
“No” answered Harry. He sighed, and continued “She’s laughing.”
They looked at him.
He sighed again, and explained “Team, meet Loren, my ex.”
Greg and Tara kept a straight face for almost a half a second, and then doubled up in laughter, muttering about ex’s who were only said to be dragons.
Ky took the news more sensibly. “So … was she an astral ex, or … ?”
Harry ignored the others and answered Ky. “Physical. This is one of the forms she can take when journeying. She’s a more powerful shaman – well, a shamaness – than me.”
Silence, followed by some respectful glances ‘outside’, as they’d started referring to the imagery they could get on the screens. Harry was powerful enough as a shaman to be scary, at times, and if the dragon-shamaness outside was stronger than him, then it would be prudent to show her at least a little respect.
“Hey” noted Greg, “the screens are working even though we’re not touching them!”
“Never mind that” snapped Ky, “Why are we in a submarine, being led by a swimming dragon, in an environment usually associated with spaceships?”
“Actually,” added Tara, “I’d like to know the answers to both those questions.” She looked directly at Harry: “Has our guide got any ideas?”
“I’ll check.”
His face went blank as the others looked around their control room, and at each other, and let the new knowledge sink in. Tara looked at the doors in the aft and forward bulkheads, and wondered about their safety. For safety’s sake, she visualised a blue pentagram over each, and was gratified that Greg and Ky noted what she had done.
By then Harry’s face indicated he was back, so they looked at him expectantly.
“Okay, first off, we’re apparently in a very high energy - high both in frequency and intensity – state, so much energy that we would be cooked if we weren’t protected in some way –hence the submarine for us, and the dragon form for Loren. She said the need to protect against energy from outside is more akin to the imagery of a submarine than a spaceship, which has more pressure on the inside and concerns about stopping stuff getting out, and that is why the … being that has brought us here gave us that image, rather than a spaceship. The being has apologised for hijacking our canoe trip, but is apparently desperate for help, and we – and Loren  apparently fit the bill in some way.”
“Ah, yeah, and what is that way, exactly?” asked Ky.
“I don’t know yet –and that is because Loren doesn’t know any more yet, either, not because she isn’t saying. Apparently more will be told to us when we arrive. Loren knows where we’re going, so, for now, we follow her.”
He shrugged, and Tara responded “OK people, Greg, you take behind and to the right – where you were before, and Ky, you take the left.”
She looked directly at Harry. “Harry, I want you right by my side. Everyone: if you see, think or suspect anything, speak up.”
She sat and grasped the control yoke again, and looked at some levers below a dial that showed speeds ranging from “Full Astern’ to ‘Full Ahead’. They were currently pointing at ‘Slow Ahead’.
“Reckon this might govern the speed?” At Harry’s nod she replied “Tell your girlfriend”-
“Ex-girlfriend.”
“Whatever! Tell her we’re picking up the pace a little.”
Carefully she eased the lever to point towards ‘Half Ahead’, and, after she found she could cope with the stars speeding past more quickly, then towards ‘Full Ahead’, and then she concentrated on following the dragon, as she effortlessly led them.
Tara was always a bit bemused by the way her intuition worked at times like this: she just gradually found herself becoming focused on one particular star as they travelled.
“Harry?”
“Tara?”
“She that star there?” she asked, pointing.
“Yeah …” he replied thoughtfully.
“I’m thinking that is where we’re supposed to be.” Harry nodded, and she continued “Can you ask Loren if she knows where we’re going?”
Harry nodded, and closed his eyes for a few moments.
“Yes, she’s feeling that as well.”
Purposeful in their travels now, they felt as if they arrived just moments later.
Then … well, what now, was the general feeling. They were paused at a fixed point, not orbiting, seemingly impervious to physical things like gravity and heat (and vacuum, in Loren’s case).
Tara shrugged her shoulders, and the four looked helplessly at each other.
“What now?” asked Greg.
Ky asked Harry “Does Loren have any ideas? I’m feeling pretty … helpless.”
Tara commented thoughtfully “I’d almost say I’m feeling … old – so old I’m … decrepit.”
Harry’s eye widened. “That’s it! Loren’s said you’re on the right path – we’re all feeling unable to act, and Tara’s mentioned the feeling of age! This star’s old – very, very old. She thinks we’re here to help it as it does so.”
Tara and Ky nodded, but Greg looked thoughtfully at the display, and then added “I think it’s more than that, people. I think we’re here to do an act of euthanasia.”
The other stared back at him in shock – all except Ky, who nodded, and added “You know, when I was young, we had one of my grandmothers living with us. She used to do the baby-sitting, and would entertain us – we all thought she was wonderfully wise. But, about six months before she died, we used to find her crying a lot. Us kids thought it was physical pain, but I found out years later that she was crying because she didn’t want to leave us without her … her wisdom, she thought of it as. The problem was, her wisdom had become dated as the world changed, and we – we kept respecting her, but we … took her words with, as they say, ‘a grain of salt’.”
Greg nodded. “Yeah, I was thinking of something similar, in this case a great aunt. She was also old, also being looked after by her family, but in this case, it was the family who didn’t want to let her go. She was in pain – until just before the end, when the medical staff increased her morphine dose. That was when my cousins and their family were all almost in hysterics, screaming that she had to be saved, she couldn’t be let die – it made a racket that caused real distress for other patients and their families, but they didn’t care.
He shook his head and added “The selfish gits.”
Harry replied gently “Not all people have our knowledge of death, Greg. Not everyone knows there is a better place to go to.”
Tara started to snap back “Even if they don’t-” and stopped herself.
“Tara? Even if they don’t?”
She shook her head “No, I was wrong. I was going to say ‘even if they don’t, there’s quality of life and respect for people’s wishes and respect for other people generally to think off, but I don’t think that’s the point here. I think we’re the point – the experiences and perspectives we have. Somehow, we’re supposed to convey all that to this star … though I’ve never heard of stars having a living essence.”
Harry and Greg replied at the same time, Greg about the spirit named Sanat Kumara and supposed by Theosophists to inhabit the earth, and Harry about a perspective where the most evolved of beings were supposed to live and die as stars. Tara smiled back at them.
Ky asked “So how do we do this? How do we get this star – or the spirit in the star – to move on? Or to want to move on? And what happens then?”
Harry face went blank for a few moments, and then he spoke.
“Loren says – well, her exact words were ‘Very wise questions, grasshopper’. And that’s where I think we come in. Although we’re not aged, we went through a rough time before we broke up. Now, looking back, we wish we’d had the thought that things could be better. It would have taken just one person saying that, instead of all our various sets of friends, some shared, some not, all trying ubiquitously to keep us together, and we would have had a smoother parting, and got to our current state of friendship much sooner.”
He drew a deep breath, smiled at the image of Loren on the display screen, and continued.
“That’s our contribution.”
They were silent for a while, then Greg spoke.
“Er, people, see that set of displays showing all the flashing lights? I think that’s the weapons system. I’m no submariner, but I’d hazard a guess that something is happening that is the equivalent of loading a torpedo into the tubes, ready for firing.”
Ky almost whispered “And after?”
At that moment Tara’s intuition kicked in again. Whoever had created the submarine for them was benevolently inclined, and it felt right that they would have thought of their safety and wellbeing. In fact, she felt she knew who had organised this.
“It’s OK! I think I know who set this up, and she wants us back after this.”
The other blinked, and Loren turned her head back towards the submarine.
“It was all set up – well, our being here was set up, by Sol – our Sun. She answered the call for help of the star we’re looking at – so the star in front is why we’re here, but the star at home, Sol, is how we’re here. She knows us, she values and respects what we can do, limited thought it may be, and she wants us back to potentially be of service in the future.”
The others nodded at her, and she continued “Right! Let’s do this. Everyone, think about what we’ve been talking about, particularly things being better after transition.”
Tara rarely used what had been described as her ‘command voice’, and often didn’t know she was doing so, but it was exactly what was needed. The five focused their minds, and watched, after Greg said the torpedo had been fired, as it sped towards the star. Just before it hit, they felt the submarine turning, and starting to speed, with a startled Loren drawn along in whatever passed for its ‘wake’, away from the star.
As it faded into the distance, felt, rather than saw, an enormous flash as the star become a supernova. At that, they found themselves in the usual canoe – but a well singed canoe, with patches almost burned completely through, and only handles left of their paddles, the ends where the blades should have been charred and smoking. They weren’t alone: there was a fifth person with them, a woman with hips and curves and rich, curling, dark hair cascading over her shoulders.
“Hello, everyone, I’m Loren.”
“Wow” said Greg.
“Yeah, what he said” added Ky.
Tara rolled her eyes and added “Nice to meet you, I’m”-
“Tara” Loren smiled. “I’ve actually helped on some of your journeys previously, and Harry has told me a little of you – hello Greg, hello Con – or do you prefer Ky?”
“Actually, I do, these days.”
Loren nodded graciously, and smiled back at him. She then looked directly at Tara.
“I hope I might be able to help on some of your work in future, if that’s OK?”
Tara’s eyes widened and her monobrow shot up. “Really? That’d be cool – I mean, it’s fine with me, how about you lot?” She looked meaningfully at Harry.
He smiled, clasped Loren’s hands, and replied “As I said, we’re actually quite good friends, and work together often. And, in fact, you may have noticed a certain Star found that the fact that our separation led to better things for both of us to be something good?”
She nodded at him, and looked at Loren. She smiled, and clasped Harry’s hand more tightly, and, faking Ky’s accent, said “What he said.”
They all laughed, and Tara went through what she knew would be a mere formality of looking at Greg and Ky and getting their nods of acquiescence.
“Well, looks like we’ve done a Beatles, and got us a fifth.”
Loren took a breath, and replied “And like Sir George Martin, I’ll largely be invisible. I don’t live in the same state as you guys and gal, these days, and I’ll come visit you in the physical when I can, but I’ll be there when I can in the astral – or the Underworld.”
Tara nodded. “We’ll be glad to have you with us whenever you can spare the time – that was fantastic work you did tonight.” She smiled, and continued “And I’m guessing that, like our Harry here, you have other major projects … ?”
Loren nodded.
“OK, well, we’ll be very glad for your help whenever you’re available.” She glared briefly at Greg and Ky. “And I think we’ll be well behaved.”
“Will you?” replied Loren, and she winked at Greg and Ky before she disappeared.
Moments after that, they found themselves back in the physical world, examining the evidence that what they’d done had been major.
For starters, they found their bodies had moved – to positions that more or less corresponded to where they’d been in the control room. As they took that in, Greg gasped and grabbed one of the stones Harry had set out to mark the limits of the canoe, and rolled it so the outside was upright. It was blackened, and slightly smoking. “It’s cool” he said, “well, cool on the floor and the inside, but the outside is still warm to the touch.”
Harry paled.
Tara raised her monobrow at him.
“I have NEVER seen – or heard, or read – of ANYTHING like that, ever happening. Anywhere.”
Tara took a breath, and summed up for them all. “Then I think I am extremely glad we found ourselves aboard the good Submarine … “Shaman’s Ex”, I’ll dub her. But I could do with a good cuppa, people, so let’s get this tidied up. We can debrief over tea and nibbles.”
And they did.
 



Copyright © Kayleen White, 2014 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication) I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :)