The Colour of Time - Part 12

 

The next Holiday season Dora of Wye returned to the City of Earth was the time her grandmother died. She arrived just in time to find her parents sitting watch by her grandma's bed and to experience her grandma's faintly shiny spirit leaving her worn out body and ascending into eternity.

After the funeral in the City's silent garden and after the little wake with her family at what was now her parent's house Dora brought the dishes back to the kitchen and within the flickering of the light she found herself once more in the hidden Temple of the spring and well of forecast.

This time, at first it felt more like a closed space with walls of glass and ornaments formed and framed by plants and tendrils and roots, but still lid by a bright light. Dora was greeted and warned by a little white bird that looked like a cross between a hen and the chick of an eagle, an eaglet.

'Be careful, little Dora of Wye,' said the eaglet, 'you and the guardian of this Temple. Take me and my form as an example. Your yellow period of time will be over soon. Your green phase will begin. But always keep in mind that Mustard is not the colour of time.'

KussKuss, the llama, and Bromford, the bard, were singing in the City of Lutetia.

'What do you think about Lutetia, animal?' the bard asked the llama.

'Lutetia who?' the animal replied.

'Lutetia Parisiorum,' said Bromford, 'or Lutetia of the Parisii or Parision.'

'Oh, you are talking about the city,' the llama now understood. 'But this is simply Paris. Totally overrated, if you want my opinion. Some say the city stinks down by the river. But I think I saw an inn called Hilton close to that metallic tower over there.'

"Leaving of Bromford"

    Farewell to you, my own true love
    There were many fare thee wells
    I am bound for California
    A place I know right well

    So fare thee well, my own true love
    When I return united we will be
    It's not the leaving of Bromford that's grieves me
    But my darling when I think of thee

    I have signed on a Yankee Clipper ship
    Davy Crockett is her name
    And the Captain's name is Burgess
    And they say that she's a floating Hell

    I have sailed with Burgess once before
    And I think I know him well
    If a man's a sailor, he can get along
    If not, then he's sure in Hell

    Oh the ship is in the harbour, love
    And I wish I could remain
    For I know it will be a long, long time
    Before I see you again

Today is Friday, the 12th of December 2025.