What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Blended Saga, Part 12: House of Changes by Zhu Juran

Blended Saga, Part 12: House of Changes by Zhu Juran

Last week, on The Blended Saga:

Zasu’s lover is still in the hospital with amnesia, and is troubled by dreams of a white frisbee. The white disk has possibly discovered his location.

Zola was ruined! A child had eaten part of Zasupillar, her premiere toy, and had gotten very ill. The lawsuit had not gone her way, despite the care the lawyers had taken with warning labels and supervisory cautions for children under 3. Legal fees and the judgment against her had left her penniless. Future income from ZOLAshes was assigned to the “victim”. Fortunately the trust fund she’d set up for her friend was intact.

She didn’t feel like starting over. It had been fun, the toys, the vacations, the self-indulgence, but it wasn’t really her. She would be okay without the mansion and the sportscar...well she WOULD miss the car...but she’d manage. She looked around at the empty house (the repo people had been very efficient), dropped the keys on the floor, and walked out.

(2 gridweeks ago)

All of Zasu’s searching had been in vain. Her lover was nowhere to be found. She’d gone through all her landmarks, revisited each place, doublechecked all his groups, and finally had hired PIs that specialized in grid searches, but...nothing. She shouldn’t have done a tarot reading for herself she decided. Too hard to stay objective. She’d heard of someone in the sim who did them, and so far she hadn’t heard anything negative about her. Lady LaForza she was called. Zasu made an appointment.

Walking up to Lady LaForza’s cottage, there was a definite theme going on: lions! Lion statues, lion gargoyles, lions in stained glass, lions floating in the air. She used the lion knocker to rap on the door, turned the lion doorknob when she heard, “Enter!”, and walked in.

It seemed that Lady LaForza had just gotten home herself, as she was hanging a large red hat up on a hook. She gestured for Zasu to sit, and put a large crystal ball between them on the table. “Ummm, I was hoping for a tarot reading,” Zasu said. Lady LaForza ignored her, closed her eyes, and held her hands palm down above the crystal ball. Zasu resigned herself to some wasted lindens. After several minutes of silence, Lady LaForza began talking.

“Your lost lover is alive.” Zasu snapped to attention; she hadn’t said why she was here.
“He is alive, and most definitely lost. He does not know where he is, nor do I. He was hurt, but he is safe now. I do not want your lindens.” Lady LaForza got up, walked out of the room, and disappeared from Zasu’s radar. Zasu understood that she had been dismissed, and, puzzled, left the house. What an odd person, she thought. How can she stay in business with an attitude like that. Walking down the path, she noticed a white frisbee on the lawn. She hadn’t noticed it going in, but she’d been looking at all the lions. It looked like the same kind as the one she’d thrown out, but this one was very shiny and new. Reaching down to pick it up, something stopped her - a feeling, but a strong one. Slowly she withdrew her hand, left the fortuneteller’s yard, and went home.

(present time)

Blinking (yes, disks can blink) the white disk scanned its surroundings - yes! It was in the room where it had seen the follower. There he was, sleeping. The white disk hadn’t thought about what to do next, it had been so surprised to get an offworld teleport location. It hovered around the room slowly, taking it all in. Approaching footsteps warned it to hide; it powered down to floor level and applied 100% trans. Someone came into the room, checked on the man sleeping in the bed, and started to walk out, then stopped. “What’s this doing here?” the someone muttered to herself. She picked up the white disk and turned it over and over in her hands. (The white disk groaned to itself, apparently transparency was not something to be altered in this world.) Finally she set it on the table next to the man’s bed, and left the room. The white disk relaxed and decided to hide under the bed while it decided what to do next.

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