MISS TERRY

'The Vacation'

Page 2

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"That was a close shave" I thought to myself, into my pocket 'Thought-o-phone' and feeling the cold sweat run all the way down to my leatherette ankle-straps as the left-over cream cake stuck all over the ships stainless-steel control panel.

 The pickled onions were running low now, and I was getting worried about my food supply, so I patched a course back back to Earth with great stealth and skill while singing an old Cyprianna folk song, all the while punching gently on the face of my deep-fried Halloween cake.

........."Well I'll be a patchwork pair of Hindustanni underpants"!!!!! ...I murmured in dumbfounded amazement as my hand punched through the cakes face and down into the gooey centre, only to uncover a diamond encrusted anklet with a picture of some Indian chap sitting on the back of a sea horse!!. I rapidly placed it into the air-lock and disposed of it for all time into the centre of the Galaxy.

 Within hours I was hovering pointlessly over Cyprus again. "Good old Hyper-Spacial Nightmares" .. I gasped in delight.

 With my 'Earthscan' in full flow I caught the happy image of Mr Quinn gazing with joy through the tempting center-hole of the Coke-Clip, stamping his feet and giggling with pleasure. By his side stood a packet of 'Dehydrated Clown's Gyroscope Droppings' , beside which stood the Greek girl, 'Anoushka' - - I knew her name now as the tag of her shirt collar was sticking up, and also because Mr Quinn said, "Quickly Anoushka! come and look at this through the coke-clip! it's amazing!! I can see the 'Theodelites of Socrates' as clear as a spaniels eyeball". Anoushka quickly and cleverly stepped into the large wooden cupboard-like box by her side, and in a very 'Paul Danielish' way -- 'Vanished' !!

Note("Paul Daniels" is a well known British Magician)

Anthony continued to gaze in amazement, gasping as he yelled out, "!OOooh yes! my uncle Zeuse's Poldark impersonation!! the golden fleece of Jason being manhandled by Percy-Thrower's Cyclops! -- wow!"

I focused on the wine bottle by his side, and yes, it was empty. The label was marked clearly, 'From the Binyards of Cyprus' -- poor old Tony, I thought, as I dematerialised inside of the transporter chamber, only to re-materialize inside of Anoushka's blouse!!!! lucky old me, I thought, as I burst out through the buttoned-up front (after squirming around a bit with my face tangled in her white, lacy Bra -- gasppp!) and apologised profusely for my faulty calculations.

All she said was "'Floob-munks'! my aunt Gertrude's punctured diving suit causes more trouble when it comes alive and terrorises the villagers! .

................"Well buckle my neon-lit sandals!" I mumbled in cardigan-shaped thought-waves, ... "I'll be the son of a knitted Hyena!

I looked deep into Anoushka's beautiful eyes, trying to penetrate the depths of her unconscious, trying to delve within the very depths of her past lives far back in the mists of time, in her previous incarnations she may have crossed my path. I believed all, even slightly significant relationships, were re-occurences of past-life relationships, though the reason for such recurrences were not plain to me yet. The explanation for 'Dream Images' from my past materialising every now and then in reality, and the ease and comfort when meeting certain people as opposed to the discomfort or indifference when meeting others upheld my belief in a sense. This could only be argued against by people with their own views which could not be proven either!...............

......................"OUCH!" -- squealed Anoushka, popping my thought-bubble and her thumb with the needle as she sewed the buttons back on to her torn shirt.

Tiny silver threads, intermittently punctuated with white dots surrounded by black phosphorescent corona's danced before my eyes for a few seconds, before I could properly focus my attention on the girl again. I felt my soul re-enter my body, and I steadied myself with hand on her bare shoulder. I experienced a strange displacement in time! as if hours had passed. I looked at the silver timepiece on her arm and realised that only a minute or two had elapsed since I looked into those dark, bottomless eyes!

A spherical ball of bright red blood emerged from the punctured thumb, and it reminded me oddly of a film I had seen as a child, -- "The Red Balloon". Was it a black and white film?? where the only colour used was for the 'Red Balloon'???........ I couldn't remember!!.............

The obvious importance attached to the balloon in the film was similarly experienced by me when first seeing it in my childhood. Such an inexpensive and yet such a unique object was so precious to the boy in the film, and I identified the experience in myself unconsciously then. Now, I was experiencing a similar parallel occurrence in the manifestation of the 'balloon' of red blood. I ran the little finger of my left hand over the sphere of blood and placed it to my lips -- it tasted sweet and warm. There was no follow-up emission from the puncture. In the film the boy's balloon was punctured, was that how it ended??? .............

......................I couldn't remember!...........

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