STORIES FROM RORY No.1b

 

CHANCE

Click-clack went the beads. Click-clack. It was fast when you got the hang of it.

And when there was a whole room of people doing it, it could become noisy. But he found it more – human than the hum of the fans in a computer suite. Of course, in the bad old days there’d been the whir and swish of the tapes, or the clatter of the punch-cards. Thinking done outside the brain always made a noise.

He’d been lucky, he reflected, as he walked up and down the rows of calculators, checking how things were going, to have ended up here. The social structures were so easy to adapt to his purposes. (And more than one of the calculators had shown herself ready and willing to do the same.) Some of the technology was actually available in principle – even though no one would ever have thought to apply it in quite the way he wanted to. And the raw material was available in endless quantities.

Best of all, though: they’d believed in magic.

Real primitives would have seen him with the thing in his hand that showed them themselves made much smaller, and doing what they’d just done, again and again, and they’d have thought it had captured their souls, as well as their images, smashed it, smashed him, and made an end of it all. But here… there was real curiosity. They ached for the new and the strange.

They’d seen his strange bird fall from the sky, and made for the crash-site, even though they knew it would take them a while to get there, in the middle of the trackless desert. Better than that, they had ways of knowing where they were and where they were going – clear skies at night, and stars to guide them. Calling those stars by the names of gods and making up stories about them didn’t stop them being a way to fix your place on earth.

Of course, it had been his own fault that he’d fallen asleep, and let the auto-pilot take him away from the course he’d planned, but hadn’t set into it – and then there’d been the electrical storm that had woken him and flung him into the past… tumbling down, fumbling clear, the jerk of the parachute opening, the scramble to come to a stop, the decision to stay put by the wreckage, with the silk of the chute as a canopy for shade… Wise decisions, all of them – rewarded by his present position as Pharaoh’s Chief Administrator and Tax Gatherer.

Chance, he said to himself, what is Chance? Was it Chance that made me download to my smartphone a full guide to Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics? What else would a computer programmer do, setting off, in his own light plane, on a holiday to Egypt? And it surely wasn’t Chance that made me bring a solar charge-pack! Nothing as sad and useless as a dead device… And if you’ve dealt with Bill Gates, you learn modesty and compliance when faced with High Priests, which was why he’d had no trouble with them – he served them, and was not competition.

There was a noise at the far end of the room. It was those very High Priests that he’d just been thinking about, a procession of them, interrupting the work – but then, they had a right to – trumpets sounded – a special ceremony – the Highest of them bore a cushion in front of him, and on it, glinting, a large, golden key.

He could spare time. His calculators had all been well-trained. He took his place in the procession as they crossed the square and entered the Temple – but once inside, the priests melted away, and only the pair of Highest Priests still walked beside him, guiding him in silence to the Great Doors of the Holiest Shrine, in which the God spoke to His Priests. An honour indeed!

The Priests stood aside. He took the key, put it in the lock and turned. The doors opened silently. He went through and stood in the darkness while the doors closed just as silently behind him.

Slowly, glowing hieroglyphs formed in the air in front of him. He opened his phone to check their meaning.

On the screen, the message read SO GLAD WE FETCHED YOU HERE.

Mike Rogers

This story arose from the same set of cubes that inspired The Ankh key and the golden dragon - but the abacus is not just a toy: it is turned into a computer by the programmer flung unexpectedly into the past. And the "calculators" are human beings (mostly female!). 

COMEDY OR TRAGEDY

 

Comedy or tragedy

Holidaying in Italy and having a great time. Last evening we had attended the theatre, first to listen to a comedy, and then a tragedy. The two masks made me shiver; I hate masks of any kind, believing they can be evil.

As we left the theatre, people seemed happy and were smiling. I did think then that a smiley mask might have been nice.

Outside we emerged upon a slight covering of snow and we looked back at our foot prints.

We passed by a statue with a cupid and his arrow was slightly covered by snow and it glistened, adding more glamour to the image.

We came to a fountain – we find water splashing is magical. We felt really happy.

Something in the sky caught our eye and it was as if someone had waved a magic wand, as we could see the northern lights, but not just this: we saw fire rainbows dance in between the green and red of the aurora borealis.

The atmosphere was enchanting. However, we did not relish returning home and facing up to the work that had piled up while we were away.

We rose early to catch the flight back to Britain. Our memories were still full of the wonders we had enjoyed on our holiday.

As we glanced out of the window, morning had just broken the glorious night’s spell. The sky had been full of stars, and one star shone out from all of the others.

We were amazed to see that bright large star was still shining. It was an odd shape more like a scarab beetle form. Other passengers were passing comments about this star. The shape grew closer to the plane. I sat back in shock and fear, as two alien faces, which were not nice to look at, were staring at us.

A couple of people screamed when they saw them. The pilot made an announcement saying for folk not to panic.

One man took with a heart attack and was attended to by a doctor that happened to be on board.

As passengers looked through the window again, the scarab beetle craft was no longer there.

It left food for thought, as all of the newspapers were full of the story. Folk switched on their TVs to watch the news from the world.

A reporter announced that governments now had to admit that there is proof of alien beings.

Most folk shouted at their TVs, “We already knew that! So what?”

Josephine Smith

This story arose from some of the same cubes that inspired Illusion... you will recognise the fountain, the scarab, the comedy and tragedy masks - which give the idea of a theatre - and the magician's wand, as well as the alien face... 

ELLA AND THE WELL

 

Ella and the well

No one knows how many thousands of years old this well really is. Many animals have fallen into this trap and never been seen again.

Ancient human ancestors have also fallen prey to this pit and they have been lost forever. It’s too deep for any hope of rescue.

Most humans and animals have learned how to avoid these tragedies. The elders have taught the young. If you fall into this trap you won’t ever get out.

The well is directly in the path of elephant herds on the way to the water-holes.

A herd of elephants were out on a course to find water and a youngster, being green, fell into the hole.

It was curiosity that led this youngster into trouble. She wanted to know what the fuss was all about and got too close to the edge and fell.

The herd waited as long as they could but some days passed by and there was no sign of getting help for her. The herd went on without her. The young elephant’s mother was distraught, but urgently needed water, as she was becoming dehydrated, and so she moved on with the herd.

The baby was stuck and could not move and she just cried out, loudly, hoping her mother would help her, or teach her what to do. The baby was getting hungry and thirsty.

Some photographers were out taking photos for a television series. The elephant herd was of particular interest. They wanted to know how far they travelled to the precious water-holes and how long it would take them to reach it. They also wanted to know if they used the same water pools each time. It would be of a good deal of interest to the public.

They came to the edge of the pit and heard the baby’s cries. One of the young photographers almost lost his own footing.

He had heard the baby elephant’s cries and went to investigate.

It was just good blessings that they had a great team at base camp who could help.

They had to make a plan of what was needed to rescue this animal. They knew that the gap down there was deep and very narrow.

“We’ll need a digger,” Josh said.

Base camp was notified and several companies were contacted and finally managed to get someone willing to come and take part.

The photographers explained why they needed it.

Those at camp then contacted the firm that was willing to help, and ordered the tools.

The voice on the end of the phone said, “I know where you are and I know what I need to bring besides the digger. That well is well-known for incidents like this. I will be with them in about two hours, quicker if I can. I will bring a tub of water with me, as the animal will be very thirsty.”

“Oh great, and the animal isn’t the only one who needs a drink, I’m parched,” Patrick said, relieved to hear there was water coming.

The TV crew had brought water with them but had hit a large bump on the track and lost the barrel and most of the water.

The crew waited anxiously for the digger. Looking over to the left, Josh shouted, “Oh great! Here they are now, and it looks like he has brought a team with him.”

Geo, the head of the rescue team, also brought food, sandwiches, and fruit. The TV crew ate and drank and got ready for a real live television rescue. The viewers would love this. as long as the baby elephant was saved, but be wailing if the baby died.

It was baking hot and the rescue was making the team thirsty and very tired. Tempers were flaring and drinks of water were taken regularly.

At last they managed to free the baby and she was more than ready for her drink.

Josh looked up and said to the team that had rescued the animal, “I don’t suppose you know where the water hole is that the herd drink from, do you?”

“I certainly do, Sir, and it’s about 11 and a half kilometres from here.” Geo was happy to help.

“Uh oh, what are you thinking now, Josh?”

“Well, after all the hard work of rescue how about reuniting this baby with her mother?”

Geo looked up and added, “It’s not too far, we could load the baby up on the truck and take her there.”

The rescue team were happy that they were going to be on television and make some cash.

They became emotional as the mother was delighted to be reunited with her baby. They watched and felt emotional when the mother and her baby ran towards each other. They took many pictures as she took mother’s milk. The team felt good to think that they had helped to make this a good outcome for all.

They named the baby Ella and the work they had done was extremely popular on the well known television programme.

The television crew still seek information about Ella, and they celebrated when she had her first young one.

These days Ella is teaching her young about the deep well, and to avoid it.

Josephine Smith

STORIES FROM RORY No.1a

It's amazing how different the stories can be, inspired by the same set of images!

 THE MAGICIAN'S ASSISTANT

Jim was daydreaming in his armchair, planning his next magician program for a Save the Children charity event, when… Well, he must have dozed off…

… that is what he believed had happened afterwards. It couldn't have been anything else, as suddenly the room lit up and a huge jag of lightning filled the sky. This was followed by a loud crack of thunder and the heavens opened as a torrent of rain, or hailstones perhaps, rattled down so that he couldn't see anything except stair rods sliding down the window glass. Thunderstorms worried him and worst of all flooding, it had happened before, but never like this. His mind went straight to the cellar.

Their terrace was built on a hill and his house stood back from the next one further down the hill, so that a whirlpool always collected on his side of the walls of next door's front garden and gushed down the cellar grate in his pavement and siphoned straight into his deep cellar. There the sluice in the middle of the flagstones carried it away… it had happened before. But a cloudburst like this..?

So, here he found himself at the top of the cellar steps and there was a cataract pouring in through the missing glass in the cellar window and the level was rising frighteningly.

How he had managed to find himself up to the waist in the rising tide, he had no idea – he was slipping on green slime – and the current was dragging him off his feet towards the centre of this underground room where the sluice was now choked up with leaves and weeds, blown in from outside. Well, there had never seemed to be a free spot in his time-table and the whole storeplace needed clearing. But now there was a mixture of freezing hail and a torrent of water pouring in.

With a loud groan an over-loaded shelf slid sideways down the cellar wall and his boxes of fancy dress slid sickeningly into the whirlpool in the centre of the room. Water was sucking the trousers off his legs now, and still cascading in through the grating at street level above. Another crack of thunder and the heavens opened again as he was swept off his feet.

More and more colourful plastic tricks-of-the-trade bounced down, including a ragbag of clothes that he wore as a magician at children's parties. And there went his cape, and the plastic box painted to resemble a pyramid, and where his assistant stepped inside to be cut into two, yet again, and re-appear... remade!

His cloak was bobbing, filled with air, and now swimming towards him. His own arms were waving and threshing, as they grappled with the debris that had already blocked up the sluice and the more he frantically tore with his bare hands the more things slithered off the tottering shelves, and his past literally floated before his eyes. By now the water was up to his chest and the cellar steps were blocked by bobbing rubble. He was by now frantic.

He knew his end was approaching. In despair he dragged his arms up through the heavy water and put his hands together to pray, although he had never been a strong believer. He was more into the magic stuff, like waving his wand that was floating some yards away. Than something dropped down off the shelf and hit him on the back of the head and all went black.

Then, it seemed as if he was looking above water level and a shape seemed to be rising up out of the water and floating into some sort of shape. It was amorphous and holding out its flapping arms to him. Was it asking him to join in some dance with it? It was then that Jim noticed it had something like wings about its head. He reached forward to grasp the extended hands and he felt as if he were being lifted and flying and, as he looked down, the water was gurgling back down the drain and the last runnels sucking back down the grating, like someone slurping tea.

He himself was now sitting on the cellar steps and the cellar floor was dry and the magic stuff was all back on the shelves. But, there, out of the corner of his eye something seemed to be moving. It surely couldn't be his dark cloak slithering back into the box? No… it was some dead leaves sliding down, outside his moist spectacles. Even for a magician, that would have taken some swallowing.

He got up gingerly and found he could walk, and his clothes had dried as if they had never been wet. So strange. It must have been a dream. But his head was aching and, when he felt, there was a large bump on it. He couldn't remember what had happened after that. In fact he wasn't quite sure what had happened before, for that matter.

He looked across the cellar, to take his bearings. There, on the shelves, now back on the wall, there was something hanging over the side of the ragbag box.

He went over to investigate and there was a very large feathery thing sticking on to his magician's cloak. He couldn't remember ever having done an act of magic that needed wings. He never did ducks and birds and stuff. Yet, there it was, a very large bunch of feathers, almost like a couple of small ruffled, wings. It felt a bit damp. This was all very rummy really. Well, he supposed it was all grist to the mill. The wings would come in for something, perhaps his next charity event? He was always in great demand and it was all voluntary, of course.

Then, his eye fell on the pyramid he often used at the front for advertising his shows. It read “JIM THE JOKER – for Children's Charities. Enjoy, and... Do come again.” But he didn't remember having painted that bit underneath, which read:

“One good turn deserves another!” – and the paint felt a bit wet…

Edna Leach 15.02.21

edited 21.02 21

The Ankh Key and the golden dragon

Tomorrow my family and I would leave Egypt, and so we wandered around the large market for gifts to take back for ourselves and friends. It had been a well-deserved break for Nancy my wife and Josh our son.

“Ah, that’s what I want,” I said to Nancy. “That Ankh Key on the shelf, I have always wanted one. They fascinate me. And this is for me, no one else.”

I also bought a rainbow coloured pyramid. It looked like a prism that I’d had as a child.

Josh our son bought an abacus, which he seemed to be drawn to. We did spend rather a lot of money. Well loaded-up, we returned to our Hotel. When we got back to our rooms, we unpacked and admired the items that we’d bought.

I noticed something out of the ordinary, especially for Egypt. We asked each other who had purchased this glittering item.

No one owned up to purchasing the golden dragon. On inspecting the beautiful dragon we then noticed another curiosity on the bottom of it. Confused at what it could be, we decided it was probably a rose compass. We stood back, shaking our heads in disbelief.

How strange, and we queried how did we ever become the dragon’s owners?

We had an early start in the morning and needed to be at the airport in plenty of time, so we went to bed early. I was restless and kept waking up at odd times through the night.

The image of the dragon was interrupting my sleep. Why would any of us purchase a dragon, and why the rose compass?

Paying our bill at the Hotel desk, we caught a cab to the airport. Our luggage was taken and put on the belt ready to be put on the plane.

We had a game of Ludo while we waited and Josh threw the dice. It landed on six so he began the game, which he also won.

He turned his attention to the abacus which kept him occupied until boarding the plane.

On the plane for Britain it wasn’t long before we were up in the air and heading home. I got up to go to the loo. I had to wait as someone was already in there.

Finally it was vacant, what a relief.

I sat there and noticed a news paper. Well, blow me down, a picture of the dragon we had become the proud owners of glared back at me! I couldn’t believe it was a picture of the same dragon and it was right there on the front page. I read the article. It also had the rose compass on the bottom. I took the paper back and showed it to Nancy my wife.

A strange happening was reported about the dragon, and an Ankh key was also mentioned.

A person that had previously owned the key and the dragon was glad to be shot of these articles as they were receiving too much bad luck. It seems they could not get a decent night’s sleep through having nightmares about these two objects. Something about an ancient Egyptian tomb was reported, connecting the dire dreams with the two items which we were in possession of.

This news worried me a lot, as I believe in curses and dark happenings relating to ancient tombs.

I felt very anxious and I said to Nancy, “I’ll be glad when we get off this flight.”

“Now you are frightening me, Michael, as I also believe in these bad things.”

Nancy had hardly uttered these words when the flight got very bumpy and uncomfortable. There was a loud clap of thunder followed by others and the lightening was very intense. It was terrifying and people thought we would crash.

In the Pilots’ cabin, Brian and Liam were frantic as they could not control the plane. It just turned and twisted, dropped down and just as suddenly came back up. The storm was horrific and the pilots could not see where they were heading. Brian shouted to Liam, “Oh God, this is damn dangerous as we can’t see other aircraft heading for us. I can’t say where the hell we are, or where we are going.”

The passengers were panicking and the air hostesses were doing their best to stop the anxiety but failing. The Hostesses were gritting their own teeth and praying that this would end happily.

One person across from us was sleeping peacefully. He never budged an inch. I wondered if he was dead. Before I could check on him he coughed. Still he never woke up. I thought, Lucky blighter he’s well out of it.

The weather did not relent and we continued being tossed around. Children were screaming and huddling into their parents; adults had rosary beads and prayed. I was praying and Nancy tearfully hugged Josh.

I will never know how long we were in the grips of this storm. It seemed like we were caught in this nightmare for years. We came down to earth with a heck of a crash.

Some people had minor injuries, some a bit more severe. Passengers’ luggage was strewn around.

I checked Nancy and Josh, and although they were in shock, they were safe and sound.

Folk began to alight from the plane and met with another shock. They were in the middle of the desert. We had landed in the Valley of the Kings, to be precise.

After the shock had subsided, people were checking their luggage. I checked ours, and most of our belongings seemed to be intact.

Gleaming in the hot sun, the dragon caught my eye, and right beside it was the Ankh Key.

I picked them both up and got what felt like an electric shock. A bright light was guiding me.

I was being steered across the sand. Folk were making comments about me wandering around.

“He must still be in shock,” they said. This alarmed Nancy and Josh, and they followed me.

I had no control as to where I was being guided. The electricity from the light I believed came from the dragon and the Ankh key. With no will of my own, the light drew me to an old tomb and guided me through the door. It turned me towards a wall. I studied the wall and right down at the bottom, out of sight of prying eyes, I noticed what was a keyhole. I placed the Ankh into it and it opened. I was then guided down a very long passage and down a flight of ancient steps. It stopped at another doorway. This door was well rusted and I examined it to see how I could open it. I struggled to find a way to open it. I found another keyhole well hidden, and I placed the Ankh key in it to open it – only to find myself looking at treasures beyond belief! Blinking my eyes, I walked around the room.

Nancy and Josh had caught up with me. Great sighs sounded behind me when they saw what was in the tomb.

A sarcophagus rested there, on the stone table. It was magnificent. I studied the walls and then some of what I think was toys. It was then Josh spotted the tiny coffin just behind the larger coffin.

Among the toys was a golden dragon, and this brought a tear to my eye. I looked at the dragon in my hand, but it was no longer there.

Beside the ancient child deity was the golden dragon. I was just holding the Ankh key.

I realised that this is what the storm and everything that had happened to us all on that plane was all about. “Oh, so you belonged to this child,” I thought. The hieroglyphics on the wall told me the story and this made me weep openly.

A young Princess had lost her child. It happened when the young Prince, who was the child’s father, had knocked him down in an accident, while racing in a chariot. His Princess died of a broken heart for the loss of her son. The writings said he never forgave himself, as he loved the Princess, and was delighted when she bore him a son. The child was only five when he was killed. It said also that he never loved another, although he had many wives.

Other passengers were trickling into the tomb and I asked them to leave. I was afraid about people taking treasures for themselves.

The authorities were called to report the crash. They began to take stock of this Tomb and its treasure. It made good reading in the news papers.

Nancy and I will never have to work again, as this discovery made us wealthy. The wealth I really loved was to know I had taken a favourite toy back to a child who had lost it when he’d died.

I begged authorities to leave the dragon with the child.

It took weeks before they managed to remove the plane. On examination it was choked up with sand and they said that it had crashed during a sand storm. I thought differently.

People that had been on the awful flight with us still contact us to ask how we are and to talk endlessly on the phone about the remarkable story and the treasure I had discovered.

It’s all still a mystery, but I have always loved a good mystery, and I believe what I believe.

Josephine Smith

This is another story inspired by Rory's Story Cubes - the selection you can see pictured below:

A CASE OF TWO BOWS

 

A case of two bows

Helen was a cleaning lady and worked for all sorts of people.

“It keeps me fit,” she would tell folk. “I sometimes work way up in flats that are sky scrapers. It’s not too bad when the lifts are working. However a lot more exercise when the lifts break down. I do get out of breath when I have to get to the top of the sky scraper and the cleaning stuff gets a bit awkward.”

“I don’t know how you manage!” her friend Ann declared.

“Well, it’s a case of needs must.” Helen thought about this statement and sort of questioned how she did manage?

“I must go, or I will be late, and I am on top floor today,” Helen commented, looking at her watch.

Helen let herself in and got busy. Over by the window she glanced out and took a deep breath. There was a double rainbow, snow-white clouds sat beside it, and they were so still. The vivid colours of the bow and the pure whiteness of the clouds were a sight to remember. Wish I had brought my camera, the awe-struck woman thought.

Helen came back to earth when she heard a buzzing coming from behind her. It was a bumble bee and it headed for the light in the window. Helen let the bee out, which took a bit longer than she thought. Hurrying to get finished she looked out of the window again.

Now it was snowing, and quite hard. As she left the building she saw the bird footprints and a cat’s paw prints. There were no feathers. Good, so the cat had lost his opportunity, Joan thought. This pleased her. It was then she noticed a tiny blue flower; a grape hyacinth was in bloom. Great, spring is on its way, she thought with a sudden excitement. Joan felt joyful.

She headed to the next job which was a semi-detached house. Primroses were out in bloom and the pansies looked so cheerful with their tiny little faces.

Helen felt something brush past her ear. It startled her and then she felt angry.

A small boy had let fly an arrow and it had just missed her. “You should not be playing bows and arrows where people are, as you could hurt someone.”

The boy’s mother came out and screamed at her, “Don’t shout at my kid like that or I’ll smack your face!”

“Come ahead and try it,”Helen calmly answered back.

Then Helen saw the scarab beetle tattooed on the mother’s arm. This beetle always gave Helen the creeps, as she thought it to be a menace. Typical, she thought. No brains, not the child’s fault, but hers.

Josephine Smith

Another story inspired by Rory's Story Cubes: the rainbow, the arrow, the high-rise building, footprints, a scarab beetle, an ordinary house, the flower and the bee... Fascinating, to see how the same images produce different ideas in different people!

NOT MY FIRST CHOICE

 

NOT MY FIRST CHOICE

 

It wasn’t my first choice but when Donna explained about the super-speed lift and the fact that it was going so cheap I didn’t need that much persuading.

I missed the animals of course, especially the sheep.  And the dogs.  As Donna agreed, it wouldn’t have been fair to take them away from the life they were used to and plant them in such an alien environment.  And the couple who took them over from us promised to look after them and seemed to know about the kind of things they  would appreciate.

It was difficult at first, so many people, all strangers, milling about the city.  Hard to get used to having to step out of people’s way all the time to avoid bumping into them.

Then the noise.  No birdsong, no friendly greetings from neighbours, no wind even, it seemed.  Just the relentless grinding sounds of the traffic.

Donna seemed  to adapt to our new lives surprisingly quickly,  think we’d get used to it. The convenience of shops and cinemas delighted her.    I knew I never would adapt.

Still we’d made our choice and were making good money.

So what should we have done when that solitary bee found its way inside our open window?

We took it  to the park of course and when it flew off to join the other bees we looked at each other.

Which is why, tomorrow, we’re visiting the estate agent.

Anne Hill

Rory's Story Cubes stimulated this... the high-rise building and the bee...

 

 

 

NOT THE FIRST TIME

 

NOT THE FIRST TIME

Not the first time it’s happened of course.

When hundreds – if not thousands  - of people are crammed into a skyscraper like the Penrose building and alcohol takes its Saturday night toll  - you expect something to happen.  We just hadn’t thought it would be Alex though.  He was always so careful, always warning us about the fragility of the wire that we wanted to climb through, just a few inches above the seemingly so solid wall.

 

If only Jonny hadn’t been so daredevil you said.  But we all knew he’d come a cropper one day.  If it had only been some  other self-appointed rescuer.   It was really astonishing that it hadn’t happened more often.  Alex’s oft repeated warning had had an effect obviously.

By the time we got down there the ambulance crew were assembled already but too late of course.  We watched  in stunned silence as his body was reassembled and carried away.

And the following morning there was only the single footprint to remind us, the drooping flower where no flower had ever previously been seen, and that strange, cloudy rainbow whose tears, like our own,  could be observed gently watering the dismal scene.

Anne Hill

This, too, is a product of Rory's Story Cubes: a high-rise building, a flower, a footprint, a rainbow with a cloud.