Sherry and The Unicorn

September 15, 2019 at 10:55 pm (Commentary, Folklore, History, Inspiration, Life, love, magic, Mythology, Nature, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural) (, , )

Sherry and The Unicorn

The golden colours of autumn
Shone brightly around the hills and trees
As Sherry set out from her beautiful rustic old farmstead and grounds

Autumn was her favourite time of year she reflected 
As a cool autumn breeze blew gently through her dark hair

Sherry loved to go on evening walks 
Sometimes alone
Or with her dog 
Or one of her children 

Tonight she was alone 
Alone to contemplate 
And silently communicate with both God and Nature
Which was one of her favourite past times 
Contemplating and communicating with both God and Nature

She set out on the path
That would take her along the river
And by the woods

In her eyes both peace and sadness
Peace from communicating with God and nature 
Sadness from the night her nearly 3 year old daughter died from pneumonia 
In her arms 
On the night when the worst March snowstorm of the century hit Western Europe 
And ambulances were unable to get through the snow drifts 
To reach the farm stead 
And rush the girl to hospital

Sherry gave the impression of one who had lived a thousand lives
For her eyes seemed to reflect the wisdom of one who had

She had been born in the Malaysian province of Sarawak
On the island of Borneo
Through her veins flowed the blood of the Iban 
Who were the famed Head Hunters of Borneo
Whose exploits and ferocity 
Were the stuff of folk lore 
But were now a gentle and loving people 
Since the light of Christ had been brought to them

Also the blood of the Malay flowed through her veins
The people who gave Malaysia its name

On her father’s side she had both Chinese and Japanese ancestry 
For her paternal grandfather and paternal grandmother had a Romeo and Juliet style love story
But one with a happy ending

Her grandfather was Japanese 
Having been born into a noble Japanese Samurai family 
Of one of the many Samurai clans that existed throughout Japan
And still existed prior to Gen. MacArthur’s governorship of the country in the post-World War II years

Now those mighty Samurai clans existed only in history books and ancestral family stories 
And of course Hollywood and Japanese films 

But her grandfather a noble Samurai knight 
Had fallen in love with a Chinese woman
In a time period when the Samurai clans had fallen under the sway of Tojo
And an extreme militaristic form of Shintoism 
Whose Japanese master race theories about Japanese racial superiority among Asians
Were matching Hitler’s German racial superiority theories about 
German racial superiority 
Among the peoples of Europe 

So it would not do for a Japanese samurai knight 
To fall in love with a Chinese woman
And worse still as far as his family and clan 
were concerned-
He wanted to marry her!

Keep her as a kept woman if you must 
His immediate male family members told him
But do not, under any circumstances, marry her.

But this noble Samurai knight was truly noble by nature 
And not noble in name only.
He married the woman he loved-
A woman of China!

The result was the the pronouncement of a Japanese Samurai clan’s equivalent 
Of an Iranian ayatollah’s fatwa-
A death edict for both the Samurai 
And his bride!

The couple fled as far away from the reach of the Samurai clans as they could get
To the island of Borneo!

And many years later Sherry was born
The granddaughter of these star-crossed lovers

Sherry was teased as a child
Because the village because of the darkness of her eyes 
Thought her the reincarnation 
Of the River serpent woman
Who haunted her village and family folklore
A great great great grandmother several generations back in her Iban family tree 
Who had a human body for the top part 
But a serpent body for the bottom part of her body

It was said the River serpent woman 
had extremely dark eyes
And Sherry had the darkest eyes of any female currently living in her family

But that was Sherry’s past
And the sights of autumn and deer
And rabbits and squirrels was Sherry’s present

The unicorn sat down in the clearing of the woods
A magical and enchanting creature 
In an age where the only magic and enchanting were done by dark beings
And therefore magical enchanting creatures of God were rarely seen

Of course the Unicorn being an essentially shy creature preferred it this way
Being able to walk the woods and hills freely without being gaped at by other creatures
Particularly those creatures with 2 arms and 2 legs and ten fingers and 10 toes who seemed to be particularly fond of gaping 
Particularly those who carried those annoying little objects in their hands
And were always emitting flashes of light at themselves 
Particularly as they stood alongside other creatures 

The unicorn looked up 
And then paused
For one of those creatures 
He was just thinking about
Was standing on the other side of the River 
And looking at him.

The unicorn thought about turning to run
He turned its gaze back to the creature
And the creature did something odd for this type of creature 
Instead of getting closer to get a better look at him
The creature sat down on the banks of the River 
And just looked 

Not an annoying look either 
Just a contemplative look 
It was not eying the Unicorn either for dinner or emitting a flash 
From an object in its hand 
Just a gentle look 
A look that seemed to acknowledge 
The Unicorn as a fellow subject 
Rather than an object to be simply gaped at
For the sake of gaping 

The creature on the other side of the River then smiled at the Unicorn
That was it!
A simple smile
It seemed to be a kind smile 
The Unicorn thought
Not a nasty or self-absorbed smile
That too often seemed to accompany the countenance
Of creatures like these

For some reason the Unicorn felt inclined to cross the River 
On the other bank now 
As the Unicorn stood 
He noticed the creature with the kind smile 
Had still not made any movement towards it-
The Unicorn.

The Unicorn approached and bowed its head and horn within inches of the creature with the kind smile 
The creature with the kind smile gently patted his head and horn 
And smiled some more.
The Unicorn gave the creature its own kind smile 
And walked back across the River and then into the woods from whence it came.

When she returned home, some of her children called out to Sherry,
“Did you have a good walk, Mom?”.

“Yes, I did,” Sherry nodded as she took off her coat, “A very good walk.”

“Did you see anything?” The children asked.

“Yes,” Sherry smiled, “I saw some deer. And some rabbits and a squirrel.”

Sherry put her finger to her lips and mused aloud, “And let’s see. What else did I see?”.

Then she thought some more and then smiled, “Oh yes. And I saw a Unicorn.”

“Oh, Mom!” The children giggled and laughed.

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday September 15th
2019.

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Dashwood Forrest, The Empty Portrait and Hurricane Dorian

September 3, 2019 at 11:01 pm (Aesthetics, Art, Arts, Fantasy, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic romance, History, Horror, International Intrigue, magic, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Philosophy, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Dashwood Forrest, The Empty Portrait and Hurricane Dorian

Dashwood Forrest sat in his office in his art gallery in London and quietly sipped a drink of absinthe.

The Green Fairy as it was called was one of the favourite drinks of his idol the writer, novelist, poet and playwright Oscar Wilde.

Forrest’s living dead Irish manservant Mulligan the Irish zombie (who had been brought back from the dead many years ago by South African witch doctor Dr. Sterling Makabo) was out for the evening.

Mulligan had been hired for the evening by British MP Renfield R. Renfield to haunt the residence of British Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn and stand outside the back entrance of Corbyn’s lodgings and say in a spookily haunting zombie voice (with an Irish lilt to it), “The Irish backstop ends at your back door, Mr. Corbyn. The Irish backstop ends at your backdoor.”

As Jeremy Corbyn began to suffer the worst nightmares of his life, Forrest finished his glass of absinthe, left his office and locked it.

He walked down to the end of the gallery where he entered a room marked PRIVATE.

No one (not even Mulligan the Irish zombie) ever entered that room.

Only he Dashwood Forrest art historian, art gallery curator and extraordinary gentleman of many talents ever entered that room.

For that room contained a portrait behind purple velvet curtains.

A portrait of a man.

A portrait of a man painted in the year 1860.

A portrait that was first mentioned in a book published in July 1890.

A book that most people (and even Dashwood Forrest himself for most of his life) had considered a work of fiction.

Until Forrest came across the painting in an estate sale back in October of 2012.

The picture was of a man named… Dorian Gray.

And the artist who signed the picture was named Basil Hallward.

The painting was of an extremely handsome young man in his early 20s.

Exactly as described in Oscar Wilde’s famous Gothic Philosophical novel of the 19th Century- The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Forrest drew back the purple velvet curtains that covered the painting and hid it from view.

Forrest got the shock of his life when he saw the portrait was empty.

There was no subject in the painting.

Dorian Gray was gone.

. . .

Forrest stared blankly at the blank canvas and blinked.

His smart phone went off.

It was a text message from his friend Amadeus Emanon.

A Set Enterprises satellite over the Bahamas had photographed the eye of the storm of Hurricane Dorian.

And a giant mysterious almost human figure seemed to be standing and moving with the eye of the storm in the hurricane.

Forrest again blinked.

For the figure was the spitting image of Dorian Gray.

The figure now missing from the painting.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher 
Tuesday September 3rd
2019.


Sibyl: She loved Dorian in vain.

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Medusa and The Magician

May 10, 2019 at 10:00 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, magic, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Medusa the former Gorgon stood outside a casino in Monte Carlo.

She once again decided to try her luck.

The past couple of nights had not been lucky for her.

But one more night and she would return to Paris.

Most of the money from her husband’s patent for an invisible earthworm (said to attract highly myopic fish) had been lost at the casino tables.

But she would try one more night.

As she entered the casino, she encountered a magician she had watched perform in her hotel lounge last night.

A most amazing man.

Said to have been descended from a magician who was the talk of Vienna in the dying days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire a century ago.

When the last Emperor abdicated at the insistence of a sub-point to be found in footnotes at the bottom of U.S. President Woodrow Wilson’s 14 Points, the magician in his last show had shouted “God save the Emperor!” and had then vanished in a puff of smoke never to be seen again.

This man (claiming to be a descendant of that famous magician) had appeared out of nowhere last year at a concert of Peter, Paul and Mary musical impersonators singing a rendition of Puff The Magic Dragon.

The man had suddenly appeared in a puff of smoke wearing a dragon costume.

The man stepped out of the dragon costume and announced to the world that he was Honahlee the Illusionist.

He had been mesmerizing audiences ever since.

“Hello, Honahlee,” Medusa smiled at him, “I wish you could help me pick winning numbers at the roulette table.”

The magician bowed and smiled back.

“Here is a ticket for a free drink inside,” he handed her a piece of paper.

He then vanished into the night.

Medusa went up to the roulette table and handed the ticket to a nearby waiter.

She stood and debated what numbers she should play.

“Your drink, Madame,” the waiter handed the former gorgon what looked to be a glass of orange juice, “a Harvey Wallbanger.”

Medusa took a sip of the concoction which turned out to be quite good.

So she had another sip.

And another.

And then another.

She suddenly looked next to her right and standing next to her was a 6 foot 8 tall white bunny rabbit with big pink floppety ears and a big pink flopppety tail wearing a bow tie, white shirt and black tuxedo.

“The name’s Tallbanger,” the bunny rabbit smiled, “Harvey Tallbanger.”

“Well, Harvey,” Medusa purred like a cat, “what numbers should I play?”

“Bet it all on 16 red,” the bunny rabbit answered before vanishing into the night.

Medusa did so.

She won.

And she broke the bank of Monte Carlo.

As she exited the casino with her winnings, she noticed Honahlee the Illusionist trying to fit a giant top hat into an orange coloured horse drawn carriage which would be pulled by six white horses.

Honahlee smiled at her and tipped the small top hat on the top of his own head in her direction, “If you’re going to pull an extra big rabbit out of a hat, you’re going to need an extra big hat.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 10th
2019.

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