MISS TERRY
page 3
Part 2.
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"the 'Transfiguration of Anoushka' "
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Later that day I led Anoushka to a nearby Taverna. On opening the door there was a table of English speaking adults, questioning the waiter on the bill, -- three men, two women. They looked sickly in a middle class way. The central character was leaning across the table and handing the bill to the Cypriot waiter questioningly, and with a sickly superior attitude. The woman to his right was leaning at an angle towards the waiter, and the others appeared angular also. I felt no relationship or connectedness to them at all,... I felt like an Alien.
One of the men said to the angular woman,........"You look tired, ....... I don't think I've ever seen you looking tired before!"
Why were their voices so loud?.......... how could they speak so loud and slanted that I could hardly hear Anoushka's voice who was right by my side!! it was more 'arrogance' than 'confidence' I concluded. The small hand-rifle went off easily in my hand, and the bullets met the complacent group with a sickening, silencing 'Thud!' 'Splat!' 'Thud!' 'Crumpf!' 'Fplump!'
"Achh! it's 'murder' in there Anoushka" I whispered, "let's go somewhere quieter".
Anoushka was a perfect specimen of the species, something President Androulla would be proud of. Her long, flowing spirals of hair were dark, highlighted with copper and gold. The relentless grouping of recurrent events in my life were clustering around her. I recalled with fascination the unnatural attachment I once formed with one of the Angels from Leonardo Da Vinci's 'Virgin of the Rocks'.
Now, here she was! in all her manifest beauty and grace!
The coloured threads of my life were reminiscent of the back to a Tapestry, where all that could be seen was an untidy tangle of knots and loose ends of coloured wool hanging down. On the front was the clear picture of what was unfolding and carefully being woven. Every individual thread had it's own unique place, it's own destiny. Every now and then I was receiving glimpses of the front of my own, personal tapestry, as each thread of my life came closer to completion in this incarnation....
.......My mind drifted back to the days of Ulysses and the magical cities of Ithica and Troy,........ the 'Sirens' drawing the sailors unavoidably into the rocks with their sweetly singing voices. Like Ulysses, I wanted to hear their song rather than fill my ears with wax! "I must question Anoushka's sleeping unconscious in the search for the truth!" which lay, I hoped, in the darkest recesses of her collective unconscious....................."I had to reap the harvest of her ancestors!"
I began by asking Anoushka various questions about her past, trying to remain cool and not getting too personal at first....
...... "Was your uncle Bert an 'animist'?" ..I began carefully, "or was he a deep-sea squid impersonator?"
Anoushka looked at me puzzledly.........."I can't remember! .. I don't seem to be able to remember any uncle Berts!" . .... she said slowly, eyes frowning.
"Well", ... I continued,... "can you remember if your mother wore blue socks, or played the Lyre?" or did she ever wrestle with ex-domino champions? .. anything like that sound familiar???"
........Anoushka gazed at her thumb-prick, twisting her shirt collar in her fingers thoughtfully,,....
........."No!" she answered....... "No, I can't seem to be able to remember anything about my past at
all!" !!!...... she breathed, looking rather confused.
I looked from the window into the clear evening sky, the air was warm and dry. I noticed the thin sliver of the crescent Moon sparkling in the sky like a polished sycle. Within the crescent was the impossible image of three brilliant stars in the formation of a triangle! I knew this couldn't be possible, as the crescent Moon was in reality only the very edge of the whole lit up by the light of the descending Sun, the first visible glimpse from the darkness of the New Moon. Therefore, the lights could only be coming from the surface of the Moon!! and they moved in the darkness of night with the Moons movements.
Perplexed by this incongruous vision I retired to bed with Anoushka by my side, already asleep.
I awoke next morning with a 'jolt!' -- a blinding flash of white Sunlight split across the room, the first rays from the rising Sun. . . . . .
. . . . . . .beneath the blankets, . . . . . . . . a gasping and writhing form! . . . . . . . 'Anoushka'! .......... in . . . . . .. .terrible pain! . . . . .
I threw back the blankets in a panic! and was mesmerised by the terrifying sight! . . . . . .'Anoushka'! . . .......in the final painful stages of 'Transmogrification' !....... !
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(c) P McBrearty dms.astrol
All artworx by P McB from the files of 'Project Earthscan'
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