Jack Vettriano The First Audition

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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

Albert Bierstadt The Last of the Buffalo

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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

Rene Magritte The Dangerous Liaison

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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

Vincent van Gogh Still life with a bottle of lemons and oranges

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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