The Glittering Eyes

 Returning to the point at which Dave arrived at a cottage and a pair of glittering eyes were peering at him through the letterbox.

Dave spent some time in that cottage.  The glittering eyes fired a tranquilliser dart through the letterbox, paralysing Dave then dragging him inside where he lay on a threadbare settee for who knows how long.

Visions came and went.  Feverish dreams of times gone by, times yet to come, past errors of judgment made, future betrayals small and large.  Val's face quickly faded from memory.  This felt like a relief, but he struggled with guilt.  After all, she was his wife, for better and for worse...what kind of man would he be, if he didn't honour his marriage vows?  Not to mention, remember what his wife actually looked like.  And yet...didn't he have a higher duty - to himself?  To fulfil his God-given destiny - which, if he was honest, he might well prefer to involve only nice cups of tea, perhaps some carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, a new pair of bins, and lots of otters and not to include Val's domineering and stultifying presence.  Dave thrashed around on the settee, sweating in the stuffy, hot cottage as the glittering eyes piled yet more coal on the fire.

'Fossil fuels!  Val would have a fit...but then, who cares...what Val..thinks....aaarggh.  I'm not coping.  What kind of man am I,  if I can't cope?   Oh really who cares.'

He was given food and drink and generally looked after by the glittering eyes as his mental agonies continued. Why, he never knew, but he sensed this had happened before, to other lost travellers on the moor.

When he eventually 'came to', he found a bowl of peppermint-scented cool fresh water and a clean(-ish) cloth on a small table next to the settee.  He dabbed his face and took a couple of deep breaths.  The door behind him was open wide and he could feel the bracing air of the moor.  It was time to leave.

He stood up and caught his reflection in the oak mirror above the fireplace - which was now cold, and filled with daffodils - 'WHAT THE...?'  

'I'm sure I usually only have two eyes.  Now I seem to have three!'  he patted his forehead carefully, and felt nothing.  But a third eye was clearly visible, between and just above his usual two, when he looked at his reflection.  Could there be a warp in the glass?  he thought of course not - surely not one that looked exactly like a human eye.  

'Well, perhaps I'm seeing things.  With a spare eye that wouldn't be surprising lol.  If it's really there and I'm not hallucinating again who knows, it might come in useful.  I'll set off and see what happens.  Expect the worst and hope for the best.  That's what dad always used to say, and look where that got him.  COPD and crippled with arthritis at 65 after a lifetime of working in heavy industry and 55 years of Capstan full strength.  He was lucky to make it that far I suppose.  At least he never had to worry about having an extra eye lol.'

Dave inhaled deeply as he stood in the cottage doorway and looked at the thin path that wound over the moor towards the sea, where he knew for sure there would be otters.   He was ready to move on...

Next time - Dave wonders if his entire life has been a hallucination as his third eye comes into its own -  but he doesn't have time to think about that as he finds that there is a considerable demand for its services, back at the Rocky Outcrop.

A Tight One on Titan, and the Perils of Moon-o-centricity

Who knew?
Geoffrey and I are in the same section of the solar system after all.  Not only that - we're on the same ring!
It only goes to show that you can't make assumptions about where you really are in life. For example, I assumed that because I was on a Moon that it was THE Moon.  Our familiar companion on silent, frosty midnights.  A pale, slender sickle, a silvery gleam, a reminder of darkness on an indigo summer evening.  A sudden light as the wind blows the clouds away in an equinoctial gale, and ships toil across a stormy sea.
How wrong could I be?
No. I'm on Saturn's largest moon, Titan.  Not to be outdone, Geoffrey's also on a moon of Saturn. Or rather, a "moonlet".  He's not on a ring, after all.
Or rather I was, and he was. We've been rescued, and are now - well, more of that later.
"Saturn's rings are made of dust particles and gas Uncle Tuppy.  I read it in the Tupfinder General's Giant Book of Useful Knowledge, which he lent me when I was recovering from my latest dose of 'flu," said Tuppence as he circled me in his space rocket. "You can't possibly sit on them.  You'd fall through."
"Tuppence!  But how did you know we were here?"
"The Tupfinder General happened to be watching for smugglers through his hi-powered telescope at the exact moment you were sneezed out of Kevin Bacon's nose. He saw you as you were blasted into the stratosphere, out of the Earth's atmosphere and indeed orbit.  He said the screaming was terrible and he'll never forget it. After a quick cup of tea, a pipeful of Black Bogey, a brief snooze, a read of the paper and a plate of korn bif sandwiches to revive himself, he flew into action and sent word to me via the heliograph to fire up my rocket toot sweet and head for Saturn with a knee rug and a flask of Madeira.  And here I am!"
"Never mind all that. Do you have the medical chest?" I asked urgently, as my nephew "looped the loop" and fired a salvo from the Bren gun he had fitted to the front of the rocket.
"Ha ha ha!" he laughed, as the "moonlet" on which Geoffrey had been perched was blown to smithereens. "That's for me to know and you to wonder!"
"Nooooo!" I wailed, as Geoffrey plummeted Saturn-wards.
"Why isn't he flying uncle Tuppy?" cried Tuppence, coming to his senses.
"His wings were welded shut by the G force when we were blasted out of Kevin's nose," I snapped.  "I'm surprised the Tupfinder General failed to inform you of that part.  Do something, Tuppence!"
Luckily Geoffrey's wings fluttered into life just in time, and he landed beside me on Titan.  Tuppence threw us a line and, using a mechanical winch, he hauled me on board.
"Good grief Uncle Tuppy.  Even without your fleece you weigh, well, a bit much actually. I haven't allowed for that in my calculations."
"What calculations?" I demanded.
"My time-space continuum calculations.  Essential to our safe return.  We could run out of fuel before we reach home due to the excess weight.  Sorry Uncle Tuppy.  Sheep overboard!"
And with that, a trap door flipped opened beneath me and I dropped into the bottomless pit of Space.
Well, nearly.  Just as the trap door snapped shut I managed to grab hold of the outside handle, and here I still am - clinging on for dear life as Tuppence steers for home.  He keeps looping the loop in an effort to get rid of me but to no avail.  I can hear the engine struggling a bit and I know that I'm threatening the lives of my companions, but I don't care.  All I want is to get home and put my feet up in front of a blazing fire with a massive mug of steaming Madeira and quite possibly a couple of opium tabloids to take the edge off after this humungous ordeal.
Geoffrey's peering at me anxiously from the tiny triangular window - he's just written - "HANG ON TUPY" on the steamed-up glass.

More later.......

(If you like the Tuppy & Geoffrey stories, there are many more in e-book form which you can find here on my Amazon page via this link)

I'm spinning in the Void and Geoffrey's stuck on Saturn's Ring - but which one?

It's not nice on the moon.  It's cold and there's nothing to eat.  I thought the Moon was made of cheese - it's not.  It's solid rock.  It's even harder than one of Granny Sooker's Rock Buns - and that's Hard.
I'm all alone and there's no-one to moan to, except myself.  Oh for my tartan knee rug and a hot steaming mug of Madeira partaken in front of a roaring driftwood fire.  Maybe a few packets of Doritos and a pipeful of - oh what's the point if I'm all alone.  Where oh where is Geoffrey?
"GEOFFREY!!!" I shrieked, into the ghastly void.
There was no response.  Of course there wasn't.  I was all alone on the dark side of the Moon, spinning like an unlighted lamp in the chilling blackness of the -
"TUPPY!  It's me - Geoffrey - I'm Over Here!"
"Over WHERE?"  I choked back my sobs and sat up.  Geoffrey's voice echoed as if from a great distance. 
"I'm stuck on Saturn's ring.  I've been here for ages and I can't get the frig off.  My wings were welded shut by the G Force when we got sneezed out of Kevin Bacon's nose. Do something Tuppy. I'm frightened."
Saturn's ring? But surely Saturn has more than one ring? I remembered that from one All Hallow's Eve, when the Tupfinder General gave us one of his unforgettable mind-expansion lectures instead of allowing us out guising. "You're just doing it for the sweets Tuppy. Besides, there's an upper age limit for guising and you passed it eons ago. "
"Who says?" I argued.  But I knew he was right. Hereabouts, if you grow taller than the fourth branch of the third rowan tree on the right as you head north south north on the clifftop path, you can no longer "Guise".  In fact, you can no longer do quite a few things, but that's another story. 
"Which ring are you stuck on, Geoffrey?" I shouted, knowing full well that it was pointless to ask because even if we could identify the ring, I had no means of getting there.

More later...............

"Tuppy?"
"WHAT????" I bellowed, hands on hips. "HONestly Geoffrey. Can't you shut up for five minutes?  Or is it Too Much to Ask?"  I whined the last bit in the whiniest voice I could manage.
"Bit tetchy aren't you?"

"Sorry Geoffrey. But wouldn't you be tetchy if you'd been stuck up Kevin Bacon's nose for thirty three years (see previous posts)?"
"I HAVE been stuck up his nose for thirty three years.  I've been right here next to you."
Geoffrey's my best friend in all the world, but sometimes he can be a right pain in the -
"ATISHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
And we were out. Free at last!
The blast of Kevin's sneeze was so powerful that we found ourselves launched into space.  For a few blissful light years we flew through the stars, blinded by tears of wonder and relief, hand in hand, or rather,  hoof in webbed foot. 
"Geoffrey! Look!  It's all so - so - marvellous...."
However, it didn't last.  The G force wrenched off my fleece and before I could say "footloose and fancy free" I found myself naked and shivering and alone.......on the Moon.......
But was I on the dark side, or the bright side, and where on earth is Geoffrey?

A Map of the Rocky Outcrop

Here's a map I made of the geography of the entire blog, as it exists visually in my head. I found it in a drawer just now as was looking for something else. I must have drawn it at least two years ago. I might try and do another one in felt tip so it's a bit clearer - for the Kindle and that, ken.

It's got the cliffs, the infra-inn, the Rocky Outcrop itself, the time-space continuum anomaly (we've all got one of those), the Old Rectory, the old coastguard hut, Overthere, smuggling ships, the Hulks, and so forth.