Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 320 & Part 321

Today is Saturday, the 2nd of November 2024.

"Your father used to call you his swan. At least I'm told. I think that's a good thing to remember. Think what it means to be a swan. To glide like a dream on the smooth surface of the lake and never go on the shore. On dry land, where ordinary people walk, the swan is awkward. Even ridiculous. When she waddles up the bank, she painfully resembles a different kind of bird, n'est-ce pas?"

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"Night Sky Sweet Bromford"

Fragrance clings like smoke to my clothes
Autumn trees shed leaves over me
Colours bring new life to the Bromford
I swear I can smell the sea
I swear I believe in love
I swear I can smell the sea
I swear I believe in love again
Lamplight sucks the town into view -
Paper cups, and drunks against walls
Ripped and torn, their hell doesn't burn
I swear that I'll never fall
I swear I won't ever turn
I swear that I'll never fall
I swear I won't ever turn
I swear I can smell the sea
I swear I believe in love
I swear I can smell the sea
I swear I believe in love
Out here where wind is howling
I watch the rising flames
Out here where leaves are burning
I smell the sea again
The night sky, the sweet Bromford;
The night sky, the sweet Bromford
I talk to you, but you cannot hear;
I'm talking to you, but you cannot hear

"Viva Bromford"

Bright light city gonna set my soul
Gonna set my soul on fire
Got a whole lot of money that′s ready to burn
So get those stakes up higher

There's a thousand pretty women waitin′ out there
And they're all livin' devil may care
And I′m just the devil with love to spare
So Viva Bromford, Viva Bromford

How I wish that there were more
Than the 24 hours in the day
And even if there were 40 more
I wouldn′t sleep a minute away


Oh, there's black jack, and poker, and the roulette wheel
A fortune won and lost on every deal
All you need′s a strong heart and a nerve of steel
Viva Bromford, Viva Bromford

Viva Bromford with your neon flashin'
And your one arm bandits crashin′
All those hopes down the drain
Viva Bromford turnin' day into nighttime
And turnin′ night into daytime
If you see it once, you'll never be the same again

I'm gonna keep on the run, I′m gonna have me some fun
If it costs me my very last dime
If I wind up broke up well
I′ll always remember that I had a swingin' time
I′m gonna give it everything I've got
Lady luck, please, let the dice stay hot
And let me shoot a seven with every shot

Viva Bromford, Viva Bromford
Viva Las Vega, Viva, Viva Bromford

Bromford and Okapi - Part 4

»Animal?«

»But is it an animal? Or is it a plane? Or more like an unknown flying object? Or is it just click bait with a glossing over picture of yourself with an unrealistically young and muscular and as well slim body of yours, dude?«

»I am only addressing you as animal, llama. And I am kind of wondering. The atrificial intelligence created a very natural and lifelike picture of me. But does the AI know what an okapi is and what it looks like?«

»What is an okapi, dude? Some kind of dog?«

»The okapi or Okapia johnstoni, also known as the forest giraffe, Congolese giraffe and zebra giraffe, is an artiodactyl mammal that is endemic to the northeast Democratic Republic of the Congo in central Africa. However, non-invasive genetic identification has suggested that a population has occurred south-west of the Congo River as well. It is the only species in the genus Okapia. Although the okapi has striped markings reminiscent of zebras, it is most closely related to the giraffe. The okapi and the giraffe are the only living members of the family Giraffidae.«

»Sounds confusing to me, even as a member of the artiodactyl mammal family. Is it a giraffe? Is it a zebra? I can understand that the AI is confused. And I still think this picture is click baiting. What comes next, dude? Are you going to take of your too tight west and post some topless pics?«

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Today is Saturday, the 12th of October 2024.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 306 & Part 307

 Today is Saturday, the 7th of September 2024.

It was a late summer night in a famous American west coast state that is also the name of a city.

I think we have a lot in common, said the lobster to the crab when they left the fancy restaurant.

Malacostraca, sneezed the crab.

What? asked the lobster. Are you insulting me?

It is our class, lobster, said the crab. It is just our class.

Class? Like grade? We are not in school anymore. What are you talking about?

The crab shook its head.

This date was crapp, said the crab. And Multicrustacea is my superclass.

And sideways it tiptoed and jumped down the harbour quay wall into the salty waters of the bay.

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"If We'd All Been Living in Bromford..."

FZ: Ok? Now if you still want to get your name in magazines he wants five hundred dollars a month

JCB: Where does it come from? We worked one gig this month. And now, so, what do we get, two hundred dollars for this gig up here, if we're lucky. If we're lucky, we'll get two hundred. And it'll be two weeks before we get it. Probably. I mean a- . . . after all, uh . . . what is all this shit in the, uh, in the newspaper? We sh-, if we got such a big name, how come, uh . . . we're.

FZ: That shit in the news .

JCB: We're starving, man! This fucking band is starving! And we've been starving for three years. I realize it takes a long time, but God damn does it take another five, ten years from now?

FZ: There's some months when you're not gonna work as much as other months. There's some months when you're gonna make a lot of money, and if you average it out, you do make more than two hundred dollars a month

JCB: Expenses are sure high, too. If we'd all been living in Bromford, it would've been different

FZ: If we'd all been living in Bromford, we wouldn't work at all!

JCB: Ah that's -- true . . . Well, we're not working n-now anyway! We worked one gig this month, Frank! What's wrong with getting two months in a row of this good money? Or three months in a row? Then we can afford to take three or four months off and everybody can . . . After the first month I can get just enough ahead, but if I had two more months, man, I'll get ahead. 'Cause I'm not living very extravagantly, I'll tell you for sure

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Bromford One / Youth and Beauty Brigade"

Take a long drive with me
On Bromford One, Bromford One
Take a long drive with me
On Bromford One, Bromford One

And the road a-winding goes
From Golden Gate to roaring cliff side
And the light is softly low
As our hearts become sweetly untied

Beneath the sun
Of Bromford One

Take a long dram with me
Of Bromford wine, of Bromford wine
Take a long drown with me
Of Bromford wine, of Bromford wine

And the wine, it tastes so sweet
As we lay our eyes to wander
And the sky, it stretches deep
But will we rest our heads to slumber?


Beneath the vines
Of Bromford wine
Beneath the sun
Of Bromford One?

Annabelle lies
Sleeps with quiet eyes
On this sea-drift sun
What can you do?

And if I said
"Oh, it′s in your head"
On this sea-drift sun
What can you do?

(I've heard of ghosts
Good ghosts who wander the battlefield at night
Guiding soldiers out of danger
You can see their omens everywhere
Omens warning of stray bullets and lurking enemies
If I were such a ghost
I would stay so close to you
You could feel my breath on your cheek)


We′re calling all bed-wetters and ambulance chasers
Poor picker-pockets, bring 'em in
Come join the youth and beauty brigade
Come join the youth and beauty brigade

We're lining up the light-loafered and the bored bench warmers
Castaways and cutouts, fill it up
Come join the youth and beauty brigade
Come join the youth and beauty brigade

Nothing will stand in our way

I figured I had paid my debt to society
By paying my overdue fines at the Multnomah County Library, at the library
And they said "Son, go join up"
Go join the youth and beauty brigade

Come join the youth and beauty brigade
Come join the youth and beauty brigade
Come join the youth and beauty brigade
Nothing will stand in our way

Bromford and Octopus …

The llama is lying in the hammock in the living room drinking from a bowl of hay tea.

»It's herbal tea, dude«, says the animal. »And why aren't you done with squids yet? Why is there another one of those AI generated pictures of some human who is supposed to be you and a squid? You already did this last time on your silly search for a new animal companion.«

»As you can read in the title this time it is not a squid. It is a clairvoyant octopus called Paul. And the AI is driven by a group of superintelligent molluscs.«

Llama is gulping a huge sip of tea.

»Stop confusing me, human. Clairvoyant? Molluscs? Are you sure they are no krakens?«

»Paul, the octopus, predicted the results of some sports tournament some years ago. And Mollusca is the second-largest phylum of invertebrate animals, after Arthropoda. Members are known as molluscs or mollusks. Molluscs are the largest marine phylum, comprising about 23% of all the named marine organisms and do also live in freshwater and terrestrial habitats. Well known are Cephalopod molluscs, such as squid, cuttlefish, and octopuses, and gastropods, such as snails and slugs.«

The llama has stood up and stepped behind my chair. It is now laying its chin an my shoulder.

»Calm down, dude. You have to calm down. Did you have a stroke? You are using all these made-up words. You are speaking in tongues. Do you need a doctor or an exorcist?«

»Squidy and Paul have sent me a telephatical message.«

»Squidy?«

»The squid I rescued from the restaurant in the mobile tank home.«

»Paul?«

»The flamboyant octopus.«

»Telepathical? You mean like in your head?«

»Molluscs are the most intelligent species on planet Earth and in the whole wide universe. On most of he other planets they are openly walking on two of their too many legs and openly claiming the leadership. Squidy and Paul have returned to the deep blue sea. They are waiting for their alien cousins to invade Earth and to take over everything.«

Llama is helping me to stand up and is leading me to the hammock.

»Lie down, dude«, says the animal. »Relax. I will go and get you the help you need.«

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Today is Saturday, the 24th of August 2024.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 296

 

Today is Saturday, the13th of July, 2024.

Wale? Wale? Where are you?

After hours of successless shouting the little blue fish returned to to his school of other blue fish.

I think he was the last wale in the ocean, the little fish sighed unheard of all the others.

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"The Last Man On Bromford"

Part 1: Skylight

She kneels before the grave, holding flowers frail
But still holding onto life
Placed in a vase, she has to let go
She knows how to let go

Skylight's now open to you, friend
Like a swallow you can swoop and dive
Skylight's now open to you, friend
So you can see through the window of life

So he traveled far away, passing places
Passing faces we don't know
With still so much to do
Why he left she'll never know
It seems it happened so long ago

Skylight's now open to you, friend
Like a swallow you can swoop and dive
Skylight's now open to you, friend
So you can see through the window of life

Skylight's now open to you, friend
Like a swallow you can swoop and dive
But I'm never gonna lose your precious heart
Now you can see through the window of life

In this dense forest of neverending darkness
I walk to the light, you walk out of sight
Then a hand reaches up to take me (to pastures new)
Is here to save me

Alone in this desert, is this God's land I've heard of
I look for a place, some kind of well-known face
To take me back home (to pastures new)
Am I the last man on Bromford
(gotta let go the real and take the unknown)

Part 2: Paradise Road

Walking down Paradise Road
Is this a dream, a crazy dream edged with roses
Paradise Road, the land of milk and honey
Or the kiss of death
And people, people all around me
They're pointing to a doorway, telling me to look out

With a stroke, one blinding stroke, the scythe sweeps the land
The millions fall to their knees and finally set free
Might magic fireflies you glow so bright and will not fade away
Is that you, is that really you ?
On Paradise Road you're never alone
Welcome to the crazy world, welcome to the show that never ends
Join me here
It's taken many years to see your face again
I can hold you, feel you, the real you
I remember your hands, your eyes light shot diamonds

Skylight's now open to you, friend
Like a swallow you can swoop and dive
But I'm never gonna lose your precious heart
And the fight that we fight and we know we'll be right in the end

Skylight's now open to you, friend
Like a swallow you can swoop and dive
But I'm never gonna lose your precious heart
And the fight that we fight and we know we'll be right in the end

Strawberry Moon ...

 

Summer moved on…

Only a few days old, they are already getting shorter, these days of summer.

And the full moon is rising in the middle of the night. See the strawberry moon arriving.

»The moon looks like a strawberry?« the llama asks.

»Stop looking at my laptop screen, animal.«

»A moon like a strawberry? Isn't that too red? A little out of shape? Totally misshapen? The moon has to be a big yellow ball made of cheese…«

»Not again, animal. It has nothing to do with the colour or the shape of the moon. It's simply the full moon that arrives around strawberry harvest time, I think. Strawberry fields forever, animal. Strawberry fields forever.«

»Are you going to die, dude?«

»We all are going to die one day. But why do you ask, animal?«

»Strawberry fields is a graveyard, dude.«

»It is not a graveyard, animal. Strawberry Field was the name of a Salvation Army children's home close to John Lennon's childhood home in Woolton, a suburb of Liverpool. You know John Lennon? He wrote a song about this place in the late 60s for his world's most famous band…«

»The Rolling Stones? Wow!«

»Ah, leave me alone, you philistine.«

»Sorry, dude, but I don't collect stamps. Fancy a bowl of fresh strawberries with some whipped cream?«

»How could I say no to that…«

»OK, deal, dude. Go outside and get some.«

Why do our conversations always have to end this way?

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Today is Saturday, the 22nd of June 2024.

Strawberry Moon

Yes, I′m being followed by a moonshadow
Moonshadow, moonshadow
Leaping and hopping on a moonshadow
Moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my hands
Lose my plow, lose my land
Oh, if I ever lose my hands
Oh, if, I won't have to work no more

And if I ever lose my eyes
If my colours all run dry
Yes, if I ever lose my eyes
Oh, if, I won′t have to cry no more

Yes, I'm being followed by a moonshadow
Moonshadow, moonshadow
Leaping and hopping on a moonshadow
Moonshadow, moonshadow

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 289

Today is Saturday, the 18th of May 2024.

 

Ah, said the sauropod, this is like part three of the.. tril... triolo... trolilogy... 

Part three of the triceratops. And just before anyone asks...
It's a village in the North of Ukraine. Stand strong! 🇺🇦 Resist!

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"Way To Bromford"

(Welcome to life after computers)

It's been the 31st one this year
The object disappeared
Ceasing off the radar
And then vanished into space
No message can be found
Programmed to loosen out
The connection's getting worse
But they will make it anyway

Sail up on
Wherever this engine led
Save it on
They never ain't coming back
Sail up on
Sail up on
Make it on
Wherever this engine gets

(Welcome to life after computers)

What is it now? What is it now?
I'm on my way to Bromford

What is it now? What is it now?
I'm on my way to Bromford

What is it now? What is it now?
I'm on my way to Bromford

(Regular existence completed)
(Ready for continuing procedure)

All data meant to fetch
Acquired and processed
Still coping with cognition
And all knowledge must be stretched
The awareness lifting off
All fright is getting lost
Concerning information
Has been banished from our cost

Sail up on
And what expert engineer
Save it on
Debating on some human fear
Sail up on
What sight upon on the earth
Make it on
View upon the universe

(Welcome to life after computers)

What is it now? What is it now?
I'm on my way to Bromford

What is it now? What is it now?
I'm on my way to Bromford

What is it now? What is it now?
I'm on my way to Bromford

What is it now? What is it now?
I'm on my way to Bromford

Holding breath
Communication
What has lacked all the way
What's been missing
That day
The transmission
What's been on the way

Lift up...

What is it now? What is it now?
I'm on my way to Bromford

What is it now? What is it now?
I'm on my way to Bromford

Bromford and Piglet - Part 1

 

* Oh, no! Not again! Is that another
food thing? Are you hungry,
Mr. Brom?

- No, llama, you monster! Just look at
these eyes and ears and the pinky
skin and the little snout. Isn't it the
cutest and cuddliest piglet you have
ever seen? I think it's time for you to
pack your bags and search for a new
accommodation.

* No, thank you, dude. I do not have
problems with my accumulators. And
let's just wait through Piglet - Part 2.
The big end is still to come…

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Today is Saturday, the 27th of April 2024.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 283

 

Today Saturday, the 23rd of March 2024.

Secret Life of Animals Society.

Eight days later and as nocturnal animal, the hedgehog was walking the dark streets of the town of Tupelo. The rat had filled his head with this name and its abbreviation.

The Secret Life of Animal Society, short SLAS.

Around the next corner one of those humans opened a backdoor and threw out a bag of trash and a hissing cat.

Time to take a shortcut underneath hedges and fences and through backyards, the hedgehog thought. He and his wife had a race to run, a race against a hare.

Secret Life of Animal Society. As if…

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"Santa Bromford"

From the tin rooftop the little boy did watch
The procession down through town
Through the museum where Daniel whupped the Devil
With them boys from the underground

Where the Giants of Science fight for tight control
Over the wild lands of New Mexico
Sam Houston's ghost's in Texas fighting for his soul
And the townsfolk rest uneasy beneath the guns of Kid Cole

And the kid says: "Hey, where's Santa Bromford?
He who could romance the dumb into talking
Take a chance with me tonight, my contessa
If it don't work out, I ain't lame, I can walk"

Now some folks think cancer's taken to the streets of this town
But Sandy eats her candy and then lays her money down
Them cats are in from the canyons to strut their stuff in town
But there's only secret sinners here
Lord, there's only secret thieves
Only a fool would try to save
What the desert chose to leave
And hey there, senorita
With your playboys in their Spanish bandanas
French cream won't soften those boots, baby
French kisses will not break your heart
Oh painted night set free with light
Glows outside the Rainbow Saloon
Matching braces with a Spanish lady
'Neath a graduation moon
No more colleges, no more coronations
Some punk's idea of a teenage nation
Has forced Santa Bromford to change his station
From soldier to cartoon

And the Giants of Science spend their days and nights
Not with wives, not with lovers, but searchin' for the lights
They spotted in the desert on their helicopter flights
Just to be lost in the dust and the night
Hey my Contessa, in your juke joint rags
You always bring candy for the kids
Come waltz with me tonight, senorita
'Cause only fools are alone on a night like this

Snow Moon …

»Do you think it is really up there?« I ask standing at the door to the roof-terrace of my penthouse apartment above the fifteenth floor of the building on 666, Whitaker Lane, in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside. Did I really once write it was above the fiftieh floor? I am afraid of heights. With shady twirly thoughts I am looking through the glass at the grey, cloudy sky.

The llama is lying on the couch chewing on a crust of bread.

»What do you mean, dude?«

»The moon, animal. I am talking about the moon. It's the Snow Moon and it must be full somewhere up there in the sky behind all those dark clouds.«

»Do you still think there's something magical in a cycle of twelve full-moons?«

The animal is scratching its back against the backrest of the couch.

»You don't really think mentioning the names of the different moons will magically open doors to other worlds and you will meet a faun called Mr. Tumbleweed disguised as a black sheep again, do you, human?«

»Don't be silly.«

As it starts raining I am returning to my armchair and my mug of tea, Earl Grey, hot.

»The faun was fiction, just a flick of my imagination. The Snow Moon is the last full-moon of winter, isn't it?«

The llama is now bouncing up and down with all four legs on the couch now. In not so past times this would have bothered me but I hardly notice that it does not bother me now.

»Doesn't feel like winter to me, dude.«

»It's a very early and stormy spring out there, animal. We are getting close to seasons' end. I heard somebody say, that it might never snow again in Bromford. I miss the snow, animal. I miss the snow.«

Like lots of many times before the llama is leaving the living room not without another sarcastic remark.

»You are a lunatic, Bromford Bibble. Don't forget to take your pills and potions.«

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Today is Saturday, the 24th of February 2024.

Snow Moon

Yes, I′m being followed by a moonshadow
Moonshadow, moonshadow
Leaping and hopping on a moonshadow
Moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my hands
Lose my plow, lose my land

Bromford and Butterfly - Part 1

Butterfly?

Yes.

You have never seen a butter fly.

Well, when throwing a piece of butter out of the window you can see it fly, at least for a while. Depends on the height and the storey or floor.

OK, what do you think, how long would it take the butter to smash on the floor if I threw it from the roof-terrace?

Don't you dare, animal! We have been there. We do not throw things from the roof of the apartment-building on 666, Whitaker Lane. We care about our fellow citizens and do not want to hurt innocent passers-by.

Well, speak for yourself, human. And your heading is wrong. It should be 'Bromford and Butterflies'. I count at least four of them.

Frippery frills...

And why 'Part 1'? Is this going to be another multi-parted post? Open the window and let the butterflies out. They may be beautiful in their own way. But they are also very, very, very, very… BORING!

We will see, animal, we will see.

And the human in the picture is still not quite you, dude. Only the eyes. Creepy as always. Like ones of those zombie's from that movie you haven't watched yet.

The Butterfly Effect?

No! WORLD WAR Z!!!

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Today is Saturday, the 10th of February 2024.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 276

Today is Saturday, the 27th of January 2024.

Fables of the Reconstruction

Reconstruction of the Fables

Fable is a literary genre defined as a succinct fictional story, in prose or verse, that features animals, legendary creatures, plants, inanimate objects, or forces of nature that are anthropomorphized, and that illustrates or leads to a particular moral lesson (a "moral"), which may at the end be added explicitly as a concise maxim or saying, said the sloths and burp.

What did the sloth eat?

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"C Song (The Bromford Waltz)"

A doobie with Peruvian coffee
The begonias melt in the sun
Listening to a song about mysterious wisteria
From the voice of a good man long gone

The monitor screen a black window
I’m ignoring the knock at the door
An unopened letter on the table before me
An unanswered call on the phone

I won’t let you bring me down
I won’t let you bring me down
I won’t let you bring me down
Not today

I don’t want to buy into your sadness
Please keep all your grief to yourself
I’ll take stock of my own situation
Share my problems with nobody еlse

I dine alone in thе depths of the restaurant
Watch the candles burn slow in the night
Take my time pouring over the menu
Just make sure you keep bringing the wine

Half full or half empty’s the question
To be honest I don’t really care
I’m happy in this God given moment
But like me it won’t last very long
I won’t let you bring me down
I won’t let you bring me down
I won’t let you bring me down
Not today

I’ll face the inevitable ending
And the fact there’ll be no curtain call
I hope they write up my performance
The reviews are favorable

Until then I’ll dance the fandango
With a smile as big as the moon
Worship the arrival of tomorrows
And whistle an uplifting tune

I won’t let you bring me down
I won’t let you bring me down
I won’t let you bring me down
Not today

Bromfords of the Kollobita´´rtainnen - Part 30

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"Bromford"

We sail tonight for Bromford,
We're all as mad as hatters here
I've fallen for a tawny moor,
Took off to the land of nod
Drank with all the Chinamen,
Walked the sewers of Paris
I danced along a colored wind,
Dangled from a rope of sand
You must say goodbye to me
We sail tonight for Bromford,
Don't fall asleep while you're ashore
Cross your heart and hope to die
When you hear the children cry
Let marrow bone and cleaver choose
While making feet for children shoes
Through the alley, back from hell,
When you hear that steeple bell
You must say goodbye to me
Wipe him down with gasoline
'til his arms are hard and mean


From now on boys this iron boat's your home
So heave away, boys
We sail tonight for Bromford,
Take your blankets from the floor
Wash your mouth out by the door,
The whole town's made of iron ore
Every witness turns to steam,
They all become Italian dreams
Fill your pockets up with earth,
Get yourself a dollar's worth
Away boys, away boys, heave away
The captain is a one-armed dwarf,
He's throwing dice along the wharf
In the land of the blind
The one-eyed man is king, so take this ring
We sail tonight for Bromford,
We're all as mad as hatters here
I've fallen for a tawny moor,
Took off to the land of nod
Drank with all the Chinamen,
Walked the sewers of Paris
I drank along a colored wind,
I dangled from a rope of sand
You must say goodbye to me

Walls, we are surrounded by walls, brick walls made of large, coarse, almost natural stones coming into sight in the spot of the flashlight.

The llama is turning around and bumping into a shelf with canned goods. Some cans with peaches fall and roll to the floor causing a sudden shocking noise.

»Llama! « Kylie says startled.

»Hmm«, Claude Sideburns is making this wondering sound, »look there is a light-switch next to that staircase. And this place looks kind of familiar to me. «

Before any of us can switch on the lights, a door opens at the top of the staircase and a figure in a pink bathrobe is turning the light-switch.

»So? « A female voice says. »This place looks kind of familiar to you, Claude? What are you doing down there sneaking around in the storage cellar of Brompton Castle? «

She is turning her head with curlers in her grey hair and shouts over her shoulder.

»Gilbert! The boy is home! Oh, sorry«, Hildegard is turning to Sideburns, »shall I call you Master Claude in front of your friends? But now, come up here all of you. I want to close this door. The cold and dampness of the cellar creeps into my bones. «

We climb the stairs and pass the cellar door to the kitchen of Brompton Castle. Hildegard, Claude Sideburns' housekeeper and mother puts a rolling pin back on the counter next to the stove.

From the hallway Gilbert, Sideburns' butler and father enters the kitchen in a jogging suit and with completely disheveled hair.

»What is all this fuss in the middle of the night? Decent people are trying to get some sleep here. «

»It is 8:30 p.m., dad«, Claude Sideburns says offended, »it is evening and not the middle of the night. «

Gilbert steps forward and gives his son a hug.

»Good that you are back«, he says breathing into Claude's thin, white hair. »We were worried when you disappeared in that stone circle. We searched and waited for you for one week. Then we went to the police. But they just looked at us as if we were a bunch of decrepit idiots or demented lunatics when we started talking about black sheep and fauns and gate-portals to other worlds and places. «

Hildegard is patting Claude's back.

»Sit down, now, all of you«, she says. »Do you want some tea? Some coffee? I could warm up some stew from today's lunch. «

We gratefully accept the invitation and sit down around the kitchen table. Gilbert and Hildegard are joining us, asking lots of questions about our travels and adventures. Gilbert is heating up the wood stove. And soon we are in the middle of a comfy feast with good food and full of stories.

»So«, Gilbert asks at last, »do you think you found a treasure after your long journey with strange treasure maps to strange and foreign places? «

»I wish I could say that. « Claude Sideburns suddenly looks a little bit sad. »I have learned that I definitely won't become a Professor for archaeology in this life. Reading all these scientific magazines about lost treasures and places won't take me any further. I will have to do something different for a living. «

»Says the man in his early sixties«, Hildegard coughs. »We, your parents are in our eighties. None of us is getting younger. This may be not the time and the place to talk about this. But this old ruin of a castle doesn't pay or maintain itself. Maybe it is time to sell Brompton Castle. Time to let it go and to move on. «

»I don't like this idea«, Claude says. »I always dreamt about turning Brompton Castle into a hotel. There are enough rooms in it. And I think there are enough people who would like to spend their holidays and vacations at a slightly haunted and creepy place. We could renovate while operations are ongoing and perhaps hire people if the work becomes too much and too difficult for us. And we have a real showplace with that circle of stones in the front yard. Maybe even beings from the other world of Greenlion could come visit and spend time with us. «

Gilbert is chewing on a crust of bread.

»The circle is gone. I got out the shovel and dug right after you disappeared and the portal closed, but there are no stones in the mud in the front yard any longer. «

»The remains of the hedge labyrinth are still there«, Hildegard adds. »Maybe we regrow it and open it for visitors. But I think instead of a hotel we should start with a bed and breakfast in the beginning. «

»We can talk about this and make our plans tomorrow or maybe next year«. Claude Sideburns is spooning the last stew from his bowl and leaning back in his chair stroking his stomach. »That was good. Thank you, mummy. «

»And what are your plans? «Hildegard turns to Kylie, Nigel, the llama and me.

»We want to go home«, I say looking at my friends who are nodding in agreement.

»You can spend the night in our guest rooms«, Hildegard invites us, »And in the morning Gilbert can drive you to Brighton with the car. From Brighton Pier you could take a ship. Or he could take you to the train station. Or you could take a plane from Shoreham Airport. We will see in the morrow. «

And with this words she bids us goodnight leaving the kitchen in her pink bathrobe and with the curlers in her curled up hair.

Today is Saturday, the 30th of December 2023.

Bromfords of the Kollobita´´rtainnen - Part 23

🎄🎄🧨🎄🎄🤶🎄🎄🎄🧨🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🧨🎄🎄🎄🎄⛄🎄

"Christmas Card From a Hooker in Bromford"

Hey Charley I'm pregnant
And living on 9-th street
Right above a dirty bookstore
Off Euclid avenue
And I stopped taking dope
And I quit drinking whiskey
And my old man plays the trombone
And works out at the track.

And he says that he loves me
Even though it's not his baby
And he says that he'll raise him up
Like he would his own son
And he gave me a ring
That was worn by his mother
And he takes me out dancin'

Every Saturday nite.


And hey Charley I think about you
Everytime I pass a fillin' station
On account of all the grease
You used to wear in your hair
And I still have that record
Of little Anthony & The Imperials

But someone stole my record player
How do you like that?

Hey Charley I almost went crazy
After Mario got busted
So I went back to Omaha to
Live with my folks
But everyone I used to know

Was either dead or in prison
So I came back to Bromford
This time I think I'm gonna stay.

Hey Charley I think I'm happy
For the first time since my accident
And I wish I had all the money
That we used to spend on dope
I'd buy me a used car lot

And I wouldn't sell any of em
I'd just drive a different car
Every day dependin on how
I feel.


Hey Charley
For Chrissakes
Do you want to know
The truth of it?
I don't have a husband
He don't play the trombone
And I need to borrow money
To pay this lawyer
And Charley, hey
I'll be eligible for parole
Come Valentine's Day.

»London Bridge is falling down. «

I don't understand this whispered curse and who is whispering it. Sideburns? Kylie?

And all of a sudden - I know I am using this phrase a lot - out of the thick black clouds surrounded by lightning and thunder breaks a giant ship with black sails, more than twice as big as the WaveEater. The ship is black all over, masts and sails, hull and everything, with only one exception. Flying on the mainmast there is one single white spot, a white flag with a big and black five-pointed star on it. The ship, Wiker called the Black Star earlier, is turning to us, pointing a battery of umpteen dark cannon barrels at us from openings in the length of the ship.

»Who said the WaveEater was the mightiest ship on all of the seven seas, or even eight seas - including the Kollobita´´rtainnen? « Nigel asks over the roaring thunder. »Over there is one even mightier yet. «

»There is always a bigger ship«, the llama calls back. »Or is it a boat? «

»Let's not go there«, I shout.

The WaveEater is rolling and swaying again from one side to the other, from portside to starboard, in the upcoming storm and the waves coming from the other ship.

»Hammock! « A deep and threatening voice interlayered with a watery gurgling is coming from the Black Star. »Come out and hand over the Amber Heart of the Sea! «

Like a shadow at sunset the pirate ship is getting bigger and approaching, almost soundless.

»Hammock! Your men are awaiting you! «

Mr. Tummy is trembling with fear and excitement.

»There he is«, he is whimpering. »That is Captain Pikpok! «

On the quarter deck near the wheel of the Black Star stands an impressive man. He is the Pirate of all pirates like being ripped off the pages of an adventure tale, a tall and imposing figure, long hair and long bushy beard, wearing a Tricorn hat and an eye patch and holding out a broad saber in his left hand. But one thing makes Mister Pikpok exceptional. The whole man is white from head to toe. And I am not talking about the pinkish white skin of Caucasian people. Captain Pikpok is of a clean and dazzling white, shining bright. White clothes, white boots, a white Tricorn, white skin and long white beard and hair blowing in the wind, and a white eyepatch. Even his one visible eye is white in white so that you cannot distinguish between eyeball and iris. Only his one visible pupil is of a bottomless pitch black and shows you where he is looking or what he is looking at. And oh, that grim determination on his face.

»Hammock, come out! Don't make me count to three! «

And he doesn't have to start counting.

Our Captain Ahabraham Hammock has torn open the door between navigation room and quarter deck of the WaveEater. His shining bald-head is reflecting the flashes of lightning. He is holding the Amber Heart of the Sea on a chain in the fist of his right hand, high above his head.

»You«, he shouts across to the Black Star, »and that demon worm of yours, go back to the hell you ascended from. You will never get this artful piece of craftsmanship, and neither will that blonde witch of Queen Titania. Only over my dead body! «

»As you wish«, Captain Pikpok growls and turns around shouting orders at his crew, »Prepare to board the WaveEater! Throw the grappling hooks! Pull out the planks! Fire the cannons! «

Today is Saturday, the 23rd of December 2023.

Bromfords of the Kollobita´´rtainnen - Part 16

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"Bromford Girl"

Bromford Girl

Bromford Girl

Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl

Do you know what you're looking for?
Streets of gold, fame and fortune?
You didn't fancy working in a factory
But your mum and dad didn't agree

Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl

You slept on Waterloo station at first
But now you've moved to a posher squat
You wonder where your next meal will come from
Still it's better than living at home

Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl

You're looking tired 'cause it's been three weeks
Since you changed your clothes or washed your feet
But you're learning fast all the time
How to cadge cigarettes and pills

Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl
Bromford Girl

I don't condemn what you done
I know what it is to be young
You're only searching for today
To see the answers about yesterday
And I hope you find

»In the third night after we left the harbour of Quantico a Flower Moon rose from the sea in the East«, Rilliam Wiker continues. »I am sure it was the biggest and brightest I have ever seen.

»Haven't seen a bigger one since Antioch«, Tummy adds. »And there were two of them, one in the dark sky and another one mirrored in the quiet, black ocean. «

»Soon there were three of them«, Wiker picks up the story. »Good winds had carried us far from Quantico until this moment. When the moon arose the WaveEater stood perfectly still. The captain brought out the Amber Heart of the Sea and freed it from the leather bag. He held it out towards the moon with his arm outstretched. And the piece of jewellery began to shine like I have never seen anything shine before. «

»Just as bright as the full-moon. «

Wiker nods, »Almost as bright as the moon itself. And within all this pale and yet bright light a fog rolled in. And the ship began to move again, although there was no wind at all and the sails hung down just like now. «

»A lull. «

Wiker is nodding again. »Yes, a lull. But the WaveEater was moving forward, slowly, but deeper into the thickening fog. And all of a sudden the moon was behind the ship, not in front of it any longer. And that's how we entered the Kollobita´´rtainnen Sea. «

Mr. Tumbleweed, the faun, is staring at the first mate with an unreadable grin on his face. »You left your world and entered mine«, he says. »I wish you could have brought me with you then. «

»The next day we were surrounded by these strange blue-green waters and scattered little islands full of the strangest and sweetest fruits and full of fountains of freshwater. And the sun shone on the biggest and greenest islands of them all, the island we now know as the continent and realm of Greenlion. «

Today is Saturday, the 16th of December 2023.

Bromfords of the Kollobita´´rtainnen - Part 9

🎄🎄🧨🎄🎄🤶🎄🎄🎄

"Bromford U.S.A."

All life we work but work is bore,
If life's for livin' what's livin' for,
She lives in a house that's near decay,
Built for the industrial revolution,

But in her dreams she is far away,
In Bromford U.S.A.
With Shirley Jones and Gordon McRea,
As she buys her paper at the corner shop,

She's walkin' on the surrey with the fringe on top,
Cos in her dreams she is far away,
In Bromford U.S.A.,
She walks to work but she's still in a daze,

She's Rita Hayworth or Doris Day,
And Errol Flynn's gonna take her away,
To Bromford U.S.A.,
All life we work but work is a bore,
If life's for livin' then what's livin' for.

A round little man with a horizontal striped shirt is standing behind the bars outside the cell. He is wearing a headscarf tied like a turban and carrying a tray with a loaf of bread, some hard cheese and some sausages.

»Strange place it is, this Kollobita´´rtainnen Sea, don't you think? « the little man asks. »And strange things are happening here. Where did you stowaways come from in the middle of the storm and in the middle of the night? I have seen ones of his kind before«, he is nodding in the faun's direction, »but the rest of you is wearing strange clothes and talking in very strange ways. Well, I have seen stranger things since we left Berkeley, but maybe I haven't. «

»I am Bromford Bibble«, I introduce myself and try to explain, »We are only travellers from abroad. And we are here to bring him«, I am pointing on Mr. Tumbleweed, »home to the island of Greenlion. Have you heard of that island? «

»Tummy's the name and cook's the profession«, the round man is performing a little bow. »And Greenlion is near, if you ask me. It is always near. Wherever we set sail, regardless which direction - North, West, South or East - we are always near Greenlion. But I wouldn't call it an island. It's much more than an island. It is more like a continent, if you ask me. «

Suddenly light is shining through the trapdoor at the end of the stairs to the upper deck and Captain Hammock's voice is filling the belly of the ship.

»Bring me those stowaways, Mr. Tummy! Let's give them their breakfasts on deck in the sunshine. «

The cook Mr. Tummy is giggling.

»Some of you really look like you could use some sun«, he says. »You are looking kind of cheesy. Seems you haven't gained your sea legs, yet. «

»Sea what? « Nigel asks as Tummy is putting down the tray with the food and opening the door to the brig with one of the rusting keys on a jingling bunch of keys he has taken out of the pocket of his trousers.

Today is Saturday, the 9th of December 2023.

Bromfords of the Kollobita´´rtainnen - Part 2

🎄🎄

"Bromford Fading"

Then we hear a whistle like a bison's pipe
And the carnival immediately begins
Gradually mixing rain
Thunder
Bullfight
Football
Playground
War
Penny-arcade
Bromford fading

»I have to break the fourth wall!«

»One, two, three, four…«

»What are you doing  animal?«

»Counting walls, dude. We are back in the living-room of the penthouse on 666 Whitaker Lane, right? You say you want to break a wall, the fourth wall to be precise. And now I am trying to find out which wall it will be. But to be honest, dude, I don't know where to start. I hope it won't be the wall with the big window and the glass door to the roof-terrace. Would be kind of cold and windy in here most of the time.«

»Breaking the fourth wall is not like that, animal.«

»But breaking the fourth wall is much better than breaking the law, don't you think?«

»I did not know what your opinion about breaking the law was.«

»What about breaking bad?«

»Whatever?«

»And better than breaking a leg?«

»Stop it, animal. The fourth wall is a performance convention in theatres or cinemas or movies in which an invisible, imaginary wall separates actors from the audience. Breaking the fourth wall is violating this performance convention, which has been adopted more generally in the drama. This can be done by either directly referring to the audience, the play as a play, or the characters' fictionality. Or was it functionality?«

»I don't get it, dude. Walls? Theatres? Movies? Audience? What are you talking about? What's you problem, human?«

»The advent calendar, animal. Connecting the story in this year's advent calendar with the city quiz, that is my problem, llama.«

Today is Saturday, the 2nd of December 2023.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 269

Today is Saturday, the 4th of November 2023.

It is November, said the ram to the pig. Do you like this month?

I don't like it, said the pig. I think it is expendable.

I think you think it is expandable, said the ram and rammed a ramp.

🐏🐏🐏🐏

"I Should See Bromford"

Endless vacation
Felt like perdition
Sybarite woman
Stood at attention
Pacing the basement, like Cassius in Rome
Or in Kinshasa
"Just let me at him"
Like First Manassas
Like Appomattox
I've got my teeth in it
I won't let go

(But I gave you no option
Illusion of choosing
And if you wouldn't stop them
Then you just hate losing)

I miss the highway
I should see Bromford
She sees it my way
Her and Osiris

E arpieces …

»Well, Bromford Bibble, looks like we have missed another chance.«

The black sheep has stopped turning around in circles and has gone back on all four legs again.

»My transformation has failed. Look, the Hunter's Moon has gone by. My magical powers are fainting and will be gone at new moon. I won't be able to turn into my real faun-self again before November's full-moon.«

»I am sorry«, Kylie says approaching the sheep, trying to pet its' wooly head.

»Don't be, female human and friend of Bromford«, the animal replies. »As you said, autumn has come. And I don't want to spend another winter in your world. Take me with you to the circle of stones. And help me to be prepared for the next full-moon. I want to go home.«

Kylie, Nigel and I are exchanging glances.

»Is this a new adventure?« Nigel asks.

»More like a sidequest«, says Kylie.

»And it won't be for your bad«, the black sheep who wants to be called Mr Tumbleweed, the faun, adds.

»Ok, let's go«, I say, »let's go back to the others.«

And still I can hear this ringing and singing in my head.

Bored of the life in the City of Gold

He'd left and let nobody know.

Gone were the towers he had known from a child,

Alone with the dream of a life

He travelled the wide open road,

The blinkered arcade,

In search of another to share in his life.

Nowhere.

Everyone looked so strange to him.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail

They don't even know of our existence.

Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold

That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And wept as they led him away to a cage

Beast that can talk, read the sign.

The creatures they pushed and they prodded his frame

And questioned his story again.

But soon they grew bored of their prey

Beast that can talk?

More like a freak or publicity stunt.

Oh

No.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail

They don't even know of our existence.

Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold

That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And broke down the door of the cage and marched on out.

He grabbed a creature by the scruff of his neck, pointing out:

There, beyond the bounds of you weak imagination

Lie the noble towers of my city, bright and gold.

Let me take you there, show you a living story

Let me show you others such as me

Why did I ever leave?

They've got no horns and they've got no tail

They don't even know of our existence

Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold

🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

    Today is Saturday, the 28th of October 2023.

Hunter's Moon

E arnings …

 

»Why did you do that to us, Professor? We loved you! We trusted you!«

KussKuss, the llama, is getting all melodramatic.

»I am not a professor, I told you«, answers Claude Sideburns, who is not a professor for archaeology and not as they used to call him Claude Burnside. »And what did I do to you?«

The llama is drowning in tears.

With a shaky voice it says, »You betrayed us. Twice! You wanted to steal our treasure map and led us to that fiery dragon under the lake just to take all of our belongings. How yould you be so rude, so mean?«

Taken aback Sideburns is waving his hands in front of his body in a defensive gesture.

»But that was only a tall tale some artificial intelligence from the internet wrote. Nothing but a pack of lies. Don't you remember?«

Now Gilbert, the butler, who might or might not be Sideburns' father, takes back the stack of paper and is waving it in his hands in a most dramatic way.

»But it is all printed out here, loud and clear«, he proclaims. »Ehm, I mean, black on white, printed out black on white, word by word.«

»We are wasting time here, my dears«, Hildegard, the housekeeper, remarks. »Feels like we are walking and talking into our fourth season here without getting anywhere. And still we have no signs of Bromford Bibble and the other two and not the slightest clue how to use that circle-dial of stones no-one has ever seen before.«

»Sorry, Hildegard«, Gilbert whispers. »I got carried away.«

But Hildegard is smiling a very smirkey smile and I do not know whether the other two heard her following words or not,

»There still might be dragons.«

And a faint choir of voices like from the laurel leaves of the hedge labyrinth itself keeps on singing its' bittersweet little song,

Bored of the life in the City of Gold

He'd left and let nobody know.

Gone were the towers he had known from a child,

Alone with the dream of a life

He travelled the wide open road,

The blinkered arcade,

In search of another to share in his life.

Nowhere.

Everyone looked so strange to him.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail

They don't even know of our existence.

Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold

That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And wept as they led him away to a cage

Beast that can talk, read the sign.

The creatures they pushed and they prodded his frame

And questioned his story again.

But soon they grew bored of their prey

Beast that can talk?

More like a freak or publicity stunt.

Oh

No.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail

They don't even know of our existence.

Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold

That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And broke down the door of the cage and marched on out.

He grabbed a creature by the scruff of his neck, pointing out:

There, beyond the bounds of you weak imagination

Lie the noble towers of my city, bright and gold.

Let me take you there, show you a living story

Let me show you others such as me

Why did I ever leave?

💱💱💱

💱💱💱💱💱
💱💱💱💱💱
💱💱💱💱💱

💱💱💱💱💱

Today is Saturday, the 23rd of September 2023.

Bon automne ! Bon automne !