An Untitled Account of Lenore (Part 2) (550 hits)
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Submitted by Mentor (View user info) at 2004-07-05 00:44:47 EDT
This is an ongoing saga of a little goth girl named Lenore living in a pseudo-Victorian England atmosphere who goes on an adventure into a world that can only be described as Hell's and Wonderland's bastard love-child. It should be read as such. Read Part 1 first (chapters 1 and 2) before reading this, or it won't make any sense...not that it will even if you read part 1. Enjoy!
Part 1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/37322
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CHAPTER III: INTO THE SOUP
Lenore rode her magenta ticket like a magic carpet. And, indeed, her imagination began to run away with her. She imagined that all the little trees down in the forest were actually many spires in an Arabian city. She imagined that this magic carpet, magenta in color, was transporting her to her palace. She imagined herself as Queen Lenore. The moment this image entered her mind, however, she fell from the sky like a rock and landed among a group of mushrooms all contemplating and debating the meaning of soup.
"I daresay, Mungus, this child will not do in our debate!" screeched a blue and green mushroom.
"Indeed, Fungo, this child can not possibly be in our debate! Why, she hasn't even got on any spots!" cried out a red and orange mushroom, much taller than the blue and green one.
Lenore could have sworn that all the mushrooms were arguing amongst themselves before she fell among them, but now they were all circled around her. Their tall trunks were like bars of a prison and their spotted caps were like the spires of the Tower of London.
The strangest thing in Lenore's mind was how very peculiar all the mushrooms looked. They all seemed to have the appearance of a Manchurian! The only difference was that a large, communal hookah sat by her side. There seemed to be enough smoking tubes for everyone, however, with many to spare.
A withered, old, shitake-like mushroom parted the crowd like Moses and the sea. This one had very squinty eyes and a very white beard. His cap flopped over his eyes so much that he actually propped it up with his walking stick. Speaking very slowly, so as not to offend this foreigner, he began to ask of Lenore many things.
"Who are you? Why are you here, whoever you may be? Which reminds me...who are you? No, that will never do. I've lost my place...Who are you? Why are you here, whoever you may be? What is your business in these parts? What is your purpose in this wood? What is your self-designated destiny in this forest? What is your...plan for yourself in this jungle? And...I seem to have lost my place again..."
Before the aged mushroom could interrogate Lenore any further in the same circle, she simply stood and curtsied. The mushrooms seemed to ease up and smile and talk a lot at this gesture.
"At least she's trying to be polite," screeched the blue and green mushroom. "I mean, our bylaws clearly state in article 234, Section B3-H87, 'No dresses or articles of clothing not approved by the Mundunglious at least seven hours in advance shall be worn at philosophical debates on the meaning of words that rhyme with soup.' It's all in the books."
A purple and gold mushroom whose cap was much taller than it was wide spoke next. "I say we nominate her as ambassador to the Queen!"
The blue and green mushroom, not screeching this time, gasped in delight. "Why yes, Fungillium, she could serve as ambassador to the Queen! Look at her hair! It's all bushy and round! With a little help, we could pass her off as a mushroom!"
Lenore was about to protest when three loud toots of a whistle were heard from the Southwest. Or, at least, what Lenore thought was the Southwest. It was very hard to gauge direction in a forest of mushrooms.
The mushrooms all screamed, ran around in circles, and planted themselves in the ground just as a great purple train came screaming through the clearing. And the chronicler of this tale does not use the term "screaming" as an allegory. No, sir. The train had a face and was screaming.
The usual screech of the wheels as a train slows down was not there. The sound, Lenore decided, was coming from the mouth on the train. The wheels looked like carriage wheels and each window had a little ruffled awning that gave the riders shade however the sun was positioned.
The train came to a stop so that the ticket-master on the rear car was level with Lenore. He held out his hand. "Ticket!" the lanky wolfhound said.
Lenore was about to hand over the gigantic magenta ticket when she realized she had lost it! Woe to Lenore, for just as she began to look for the ticket, a white kitten by the name of Delilah jumped onto the train and ran into the dining car!
"Oh! I have to get on the train! Please, sir! You must let me on the train!" cried Lenore.
"Sorry, Miss! But we have rules in this land! Observe!"
The wolfhound proceeded to pull out a rolled-up piece of paper and tack it on the back wall of the rear car. He unrolled it and pinned the lower corners into place. The first six rules were exactly the same as those at the train station, but three were added:
7. All passengers must have a ticket.
8. All tickets must have a passenger.
9. Wolfhounds are not pets.
Lenore shook her head and tried to push past the wolfhound to get on the train.
"Please, Sir! I must be on the train!"
"I'm sorry, Miss! But you are not accompanied by a ticket, and the ticket that tried to get on board moments ago was not accompanied by a passenger. I'm sorry, but rules are rules. If we can't be consistent with them, what is the point of having them?"
With that, a brilliant puff of lime-green smoke shot out of the engine's chimney and the train was off like a rocket. The sound it made as it darted out of sight was worse than a war, thought Lenore.
Shaking her head sadly, Lenore sulked off in the direction of the train, hoping she would get Delilah back before tea.
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I am having technical difficulties with the sun's explosion in chapter four. Please bear with me as the next update may take a couple weeks.
User Reviews
Submitted by Mentor (user info) at 2004-08-10 02:56:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Link to the Internetti!
http://home.indy.rr.com/sterile/index.htm
Submitted by matchstickman (user info) at 2004-07-30 14:58:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
part 1 was better simply for the reason that you used the term "proceeded in a more or less forward-going fashion" to describe lethargic walking
Submitted by Avals (user info) at 2004-07-05 03:54:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well I liked it.
You've been smoking weed again, haven't you?
Submitted by CystMaster (user info) at 2004-07-05 01:08:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I didn't read it, but shitfuck said fart, so it's ok. I guess it's worth reading.
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2004-07-05 00:59:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Hey--if the first three letters of your name were 'F A R' you'd be FARTOR.
I think that fits better, this post stinks.