Jack Vettriano The First AuditionJack Vettriano The Embrace Of The SpiderJack Vettriano The Duellists
began to trot, and then canter, and then gallop. And then the sky flickered, just once.
Susan had expected more than that. Flashing stars, some sort of explosion of rainbow colours . . . not just a flicker. It seemed a rather dismissive way of travelling nearly seventeen years.
The cornfields had gone, but the stall next to himself.
'I'm sure you two know each other,' she said. She'd never expected it to work, but it had to, didn't it? Time was something that happened to other people, wasn't it?
She slipped into the house.
NO. I CANNOT BE BIDDEN. I CANNOT BE FORCED. I WILL ONLY DO THAT WHICH I KNOW TO BE RIGHT . . .
Susan crept along behind the shelves of lifetimers.
No‑one noticed her. When you are watching Death fight, you don't notice shadows garden was pretty much the same. There was the strange topiary and the pond with the skeletal fish. There were, pushing jolly wheelbarrows and carrying tiny scythes, what might have been garden gnomes in a mortal garden but here were cheery little skeletons in black robes. Things tended not to change.The stables were a little different, though. Binky was in them, for a start.He whinnied quietly as Susan led him into an empty
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Albert Bierstadt The Last of the Buffalo
Albert Bierstadt The Last of the BuffaloDante Gabriel Rossetti Venus VerticordiaClaude Monet Haystack at Giverny
bother about the egg,' said Susan. The voice had made her jaw ache. It worried her even more than it worried Albert. After all, it was her mouth. 'I want to go home!'
'You are home,' said Albert.
'This place? This isn't my home!'
'Yeah? What's the inscription on the big clock?'
"'Too Late",' said Susan promptly.
'Where are the beehives?'
'In the orchard.'
'How many to take his shirt off!'
'I mean I can't help it! That's not my fault! It's not fair!'
'Really? Oh, why didn't you say?' said Albert sourly. 'That cuts a lot of thin ice, that does. I should just go out now, if I was you, and tell the universe that it's not plates've we got?''Seven–’ Susan shut her mouth firmly.'See? It's home to part of you,' said Albert.'Look . . . Albert,' said Susan, trying sweet reason in case it worked any better this time round, 'maybe there is . . . someone. . . sort of . . . in charge of things, but I'm really no‑one special . . . I mean . . .''Yeah? How come the horse knows you?''Yes, but I really am just a normal girl–’'Normal girls didn't get a My Little Binky set on their third birthday!' snapped Albert. 'Your dad took it away. The Master was very upset about that. He was trying.''I mean I'm an ordinary kid!''Listen, ordinary kids get a xylophone. They don't just ask their grandad
bother about the egg,' said Susan. The voice had made her jaw ache. It worried her even more than it worried Albert. After all, it was her mouth. 'I want to go home!'
'You are home,' said Albert.
'This place? This isn't my home!'
'Yeah? What's the inscription on the big clock?'
"'Too Late",' said Susan promptly.
'Where are the beehives?'
'In the orchard.'
'How many to take his shirt off!'
'I mean I can't help it! That's not my fault! It's not fair!'
'Really? Oh, why didn't you say?' said Albert sourly. 'That cuts a lot of thin ice, that does. I should just go out now, if I was you, and tell the universe that it's not plates've we got?''Seven–’ Susan shut her mouth firmly.'See? It's home to part of you,' said Albert.'Look . . . Albert,' said Susan, trying sweet reason in case it worked any better this time round, 'maybe there is . . . someone. . . sort of . . . in charge of things, but I'm really no‑one special . . . I mean . . .''Yeah? How come the horse knows you?''Yes, but I really am just a normal girl–’'Normal girls didn't get a My Little Binky set on their third birthday!' snapped Albert. 'Your dad took it away. The Master was very upset about that. He was trying.''I mean I'm an ordinary kid!''Listen, ordinary kids get a xylophone. They don't just ask their grandad
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Rene Magritte The Dangerous Liaison
Rene Magritte The Dangerous LiaisonRene Magritte DonnaArthur Hughes The Long EngagementArthur Hughes The King's Orchard
up the old Watch Houses near the main gates, just like the old days.
He couldn't remember when the Watch last had twenty men.
It had all seemed a amount of career congestion taking place. Besides, some of the Watch had got it into their heads that the way you got promoted was to conscript half a dozen other guards. At Detritus' current rate of progress, he was going to be High Supreme Major General by the end of the month.
And what made it all strange was that Carrot was still only a—
Colon looked up when he heard the tinkle of broken glass. Something golden and indistinct good idea at the time. It was certainly keeping the lid on things. But in the morning the Patrician was going to get to hear about it, and demand to see the superior officer.Now, Sergeant Colon was not entirely clear in his own mind who was the superior officer at the moment. He felt that it should be either Captain Vimes or, in some way he couldn't quite define, Corporal Carrot. But the captain wasn't around and Corporal Carrot was only a corporal, and Fred Colon had a dreadful apprehension that when Lord Vetinari summoned someone in order to be ironical at them and say things like 'Who's going to pay their wages, pray?' it would be him, Fred Colon, well and truly up the Ankh without a paddle.They were also running out of ranks. There were only four ranks below the rank of sergeant. Nobby was getting stroppy about anyone else being promoted to corporal, so there was a certain
up the old Watch Houses near the main gates, just like the old days.
He couldn't remember when the Watch last had twenty men.
It had all seemed a amount of career congestion taking place. Besides, some of the Watch had got it into their heads that the way you got promoted was to conscript half a dozen other guards. At Detritus' current rate of progress, he was going to be High Supreme Major General by the end of the month.
And what made it all strange was that Carrot was still only a—
Colon looked up when he heard the tinkle of broken glass. Something golden and indistinct good idea at the time. It was certainly keeping the lid on things. But in the morning the Patrician was going to get to hear about it, and demand to see the superior officer.Now, Sergeant Colon was not entirely clear in his own mind who was the superior officer at the moment. He felt that it should be either Captain Vimes or, in some way he couldn't quite define, Corporal Carrot. But the captain wasn't around and Corporal Carrot was only a corporal, and Fred Colon had a dreadful apprehension that when Lord Vetinari summoned someone in order to be ironical at them and say things like 'Who's going to pay their wages, pray?' it would be him, Fred Colon, well and truly up the Ankh without a paddle.They were also running out of ranks. There were only four ranks below the rank of sergeant. Nobby was getting stroppy about anyone else being promoted to corporal, so there was a certain
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Vincent van Gogh Still life with a bottle of lemons and oranges
Vincent van Gogh Still life with a bottle of lemons and orangesVincent van Gogh Self-Portrait with StrawVincent van Gogh Self-Portrait with Felt Hat grey
town, turns out it wouldn't have happened if there'd been a king. Vimes'd go spare to hear you talk like that.'
'People'd listen to a king, though,' said Nobby.
'Vimes'd say that's what you're saying is, someone'd decided who the rightful king was before he pulled it out? Sounds like a fix to me. Prob'ly someone had a fake hollow stone and some dwarf inside hanging on the other end with a pair of pliers until the right guy came along—'
A fly bounced on the window pane for a while, then zigthe trouble,' said Colon. 'It's like that thing of his about using magic. That stuff makes him angry.''How you get king inna first place?' said Detritus.'Someone sawed up a stone,' said Colon.'Hah! Anti-siliconism!''Nah, someone pulled a sword out of a stone,' said Nobby.'How'd he know it was in there, then?' Colon demanded.'It . . . it was sticking out, wasn't it?''Where anyone could've grabbed it? In this town?''Only the rightful king could do it, see,' said Nobby.'Oh, right,' said Colon. 'I understand. Oh, yes. So
town, turns out it wouldn't have happened if there'd been a king. Vimes'd go spare to hear you talk like that.'
'People'd listen to a king, though,' said Nobby.
'Vimes'd say that's what you're saying is, someone'd decided who the rightful king was before he pulled it out? Sounds like a fix to me. Prob'ly someone had a fake hollow stone and some dwarf inside hanging on the other end with a pair of pliers until the right guy came along—'
A fly bounced on the window pane for a while, then zigthe trouble,' said Colon. 'It's like that thing of his about using magic. That stuff makes him angry.''How you get king inna first place?' said Detritus.'Someone sawed up a stone,' said Colon.'Hah! Anti-siliconism!''Nah, someone pulled a sword out of a stone,' said Nobby.'How'd he know it was in there, then?' Colon demanded.'It . . . it was sticking out, wasn't it?''Where anyone could've grabbed it? In this town?''Only the rightful king could do it, see,' said Nobby.'Oh, right,' said Colon. 'I understand. Oh, yes. So
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Thomas Kinkade Golden Gate Bridge San Francisco
Thomas Kinkade Golden Gate Bridge San Francisco
from the audience. The band struck up the clown anthem 'The March of the Idiots', and the end of the trombone flew off and hit a clown on the back of the head. He turned and swung a punch at the clown behind him, who ducked, causing
Thomas Kinkade Evening on the Avenue
third clown to be knocked through the bass drum.Colon and Nobby looked at one another and shook their heads.Boffo produced a large
Thomas Kinkade Cobblestone Christmas
said Colon flatly.'Yes. That's what Dr Whiteface thinks.' Boffo glanced upwards, briefly. They followed his gaze. The rooftops of the Assassins' Guild adjoined the Fools' Guild. It didn't do to upset neighbours like that, especially when the only weapon you had was a custard pie edged with short-crust pastry.'That's what Dr Whiteface
Thomas Kinkade Cobblestone Brooke
solemnity, poured the ashes of the late Brother Beano into the other clown's trousers.
A sigh went up a red and white handkerchief and blew his nose with a humorous honking sound.
'Classic,' he said. 'It's what he would have wanted.'
'Have you any idea what happened?' said Colon.
'Oh, yes. Brother Grineldi did the old heel-and-toe trick and tipped the urn down—'
'I mean, why did Beano die?'
'Um. We think it was an accident,' said Boffo.
'An accident,' thinks,' said Boffo again, looking at his enormous shoes.
Sergeant Colon liked a quiet life. And the city could spare a clown or two. In his opinion, the loss of the whole boiling could only make the world a slightly happier place. And yet . . . and yet . . . honestly, he didn't know what had got into the Watch lately. It was Carrot, that wras what it was. Even old Vimes
from the audience. The band struck up the clown anthem 'The March of the Idiots', and the end of the trombone flew off and hit a clown on the back of the head. He turned and swung a punch at the clown behind him, who ducked, causing
Thomas Kinkade Evening on the Avenue
third clown to be knocked through the bass drum.Colon and Nobby looked at one another and shook their heads.Boffo produced a large
Thomas Kinkade Cobblestone Christmas
said Colon flatly.'Yes. That's what Dr Whiteface thinks.' Boffo glanced upwards, briefly. They followed his gaze. The rooftops of the Assassins' Guild adjoined the Fools' Guild. It didn't do to upset neighbours like that, especially when the only weapon you had was a custard pie edged with short-crust pastry.'That's what Dr Whiteface
Thomas Kinkade Cobblestone Brooke
solemnity, poured the ashes of the late Brother Beano into the other clown's trousers.
A sigh went up a red and white handkerchief and blew his nose with a humorous honking sound.
'Classic,' he said. 'It's what he would have wanted.'
'Have you any idea what happened?' said Colon.
'Oh, yes. Brother Grineldi did the old heel-and-toe trick and tipped the urn down—'
'I mean, why did Beano die?'
'Um. We think it was an accident,' said Boffo.
'An accident,' thinks,' said Boffo again, looking at his enormous shoes.
Sergeant Colon liked a quiet life. And the city could spare a clown or two. In his opinion, the loss of the whole boiling could only make the world a slightly happier place. And yet . . . and yet . . . honestly, he didn't know what had got into the Watch lately. It was Carrot, that wras what it was. Even old Vimes
Jean Fragonard The Love Letter
Jean Fragonard The Love LetterJean Fragonard The BoltJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida The Two Sisters
pedal-driven carillon in the Fools' Guild would be tinkling, the gongs, bells and chimes of all the Guilds and temples would be in full swing, taking an interest.'
'Dear me. But it is his job.'
'Really? I must demand that you call him off!'
The words echoed around the garden. Several pigeons flew away.
'Demand?' said the Patrician, sweetly.
Dr Cruces backed and filled desperately. 'He is a servant after all,' he said. 'I see no reason why he should be allowed to involve himself in affairs that don't concern him.'
'I rather believe he thinks he's a servant of the and it was impossible to tell them apart, except for the tongueless and magical octiron bell of Old Tom in the Unseen University clock tower, whose twelve measured silences temporarily overruled the din.And finally, several strokes behind all the others, was the bell of the Assassins' Guild, which was always last.Beside the Patrician, the ornamental sundial chimed twice and fell over.'You were saying?' said the Patrician mildly.'Captain Vimes,' said Dr Cruces. 'He's
pedal-driven carillon in the Fools' Guild would be tinkling, the gongs, bells and chimes of all the Guilds and temples would be in full swing, taking an interest.'
'Dear me. But it is his job.'
'Really? I must demand that you call him off!'
The words echoed around the garden. Several pigeons flew away.
'Demand?' said the Patrician, sweetly.
Dr Cruces backed and filled desperately. 'He is a servant after all,' he said. 'I see no reason why he should be allowed to involve himself in affairs that don't concern him.'
'I rather believe he thinks he's a servant of the and it was impossible to tell them apart, except for the tongueless and magical octiron bell of Old Tom in the Unseen University clock tower, whose twelve measured silences temporarily overruled the din.And finally, several strokes behind all the others, was the bell of the Assassins' Guild, which was always last.Beside the Patrician, the ornamental sundial chimed twice and fell over.'You were saying?' said the Patrician mildly.'Captain Vimes,' said Dr Cruces. 'He's
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Mark Spain Only You
Mark Spain Only YouMark Spain Night LightMark Spain Forever YouMark Spain Flamenco IIMark Spain Flamenco I
Poem?”
“The one where you did the gestures.”
“Oh, that poem.”
“I saw Verence making notes on his napkin.”
Nanny They walked in silence for a while.
“So you didn’t tell her that Queen Ynci never existed, then?”
“No point.”
“Old King Lully invented her entirely ‘cos he thought we needed a bit of romantic history. He was a bit mad about that. He even had the armor made.”
“I know. My great-grandma’s husband hammered it out of a tin bath and a couple of saucepans.”
“But you didn’t think you ought to tell her that?”
“No.”
Granny nodded.reached again into the shapeless recesses of her clothing and produced an entire bottle of champagne you could have sworn there was no room for.“Mind you, I thought she looked happy,” she said. “Standing there wearing about half of a torn muddy dress and chain-mail underneath. Hey, d’you know what she told me?”“What?”“You know that ole painting of Queen Ynci? You know, the one with the iron bodice? Her with all the spikes and knives on her chariot? Well, she said she was sure the . . . the spirit of Ynci was helping her. She said she wore the armor and she did things she’d never dare do.”“My word,” said Granny, noncommittally.“Funny ole world,” agreed Nanny.
Poem?”
“The one where you did the gestures.”
“Oh, that poem.”
“I saw Verence making notes on his napkin.”
Nanny They walked in silence for a while.
“So you didn’t tell her that Queen Ynci never existed, then?”
“No point.”
“Old King Lully invented her entirely ‘cos he thought we needed a bit of romantic history. He was a bit mad about that. He even had the armor made.”
“I know. My great-grandma’s husband hammered it out of a tin bath and a couple of saucepans.”
“But you didn’t think you ought to tell her that?”
“No.”
Granny nodded.reached again into the shapeless recesses of her clothing and produced an entire bottle of champagne you could have sworn there was no room for.“Mind you, I thought she looked happy,” she said. “Standing there wearing about half of a torn muddy dress and chain-mail underneath. Hey, d’you know what she told me?”“What?”“You know that ole painting of Queen Ynci? You know, the one with the iron bodice? Her with all the spikes and knives on her chariot? Well, she said she was sure the . . . the spirit of Ynci was helping her. She said she wore the armor and she did things she’d never dare do.”“My word,” said Granny, noncommittally.“Funny ole world,” agreed Nanny.
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