Dawn breaks on a misty March day, frost fills the air and colours the pathway through the fields with a grey-white film. Early March shadows loom and recede along the hedgerows, cast by shrubs and trees. There’s not a sound to shatter the icy silence of the mist-shrouded morning. Then, a deep throated warble sounds from a nearby bush, a fusion of birdsong begins to break the silence, melodiously rising and falling to colour the bleakness of the scene. A Blackbird song signals a new day dawning. The rich quality of the tuneful sound loudly resounds and can be heard for miles around. A natural sound, designed as a territorial warning. He whistles and warbles sweet sound, smooth trilling notes with melodious perfection.
Slowly more birds add sound to the dawn chorus; a cacophony of melodic, richly outspoken, deep throated choristers soon penetrates through the March mist.
Then without warning the smooth flow of notes is broken. A cry of alarm sounds and many wings flap as birds take to the air to escape from the danger of feathers or fur. Their natural defense against man, predatory feline or hawk. When all danger is past the beautiful dawn chorus resumes in a mass of sound. Tuneful and melodic, with perfect clarity. The morning March mist lifts, as a watery sun breaks through the clouds, spreading warmth.
I woke up in a haze of non recognition of where I was, who I was and how I had arrived here.
Everything was strangely unrealistic, unusual, unrecognisable a colourful arena on a world of kaleidoscopic strangeness. As if a disturbed artist had poured and continued to pour his paint in rivulets of colour on an ever changing landscape. An orange flare dazzled the permanent light that shone from the multi coloured suns lighting up the distant horizon with a green fire that seemed to be all-consuming. Billows of purple steam suddenly sounded loudly, hissing and spluttering as blue liquid stone flowed down a yellow ochre liquid bed on a river of jagged rocky liquid. There was a silent crash of electric thunder as a winged figure sped up from the bowels of the middle sky. Emerging from a point that mystically merged with the pink of a rising horizon and the disappearance of the future into the past. A point in time that was midway between now and then.
“Welcome to the world of Sci Fae!” Boomed a falsetto base sound, that seemed to convey communication as if a note composed of a base clef swimming in an ocean of liquid soprano had arrived together to assault the ears with pure music.
Then a loud buzzing as an alarm sounded on the machine that lay in waiting. An information loaded gadget waiting for the button to be pressed to silence the alarm.
I tore myself away from my dreamworld of the night, to face the familiar mundane music of snarling, honking, beeping traffic that I would certainly become a part of soon. An alarming prospect indeed.
“Morning Darling!” I mumbled as I dragged myself out of bed.
Robin was leaning against the bar, relating his meeting and his experience, with Mellita Mann a well known rising star of film and television.
“Self assured and sophisticated, a social siren. Queen of all she surveyed, I tell you this is so unlike her.”
Raving madly about the lady he had bumped into in his local supermarket, Robin sounded, shocked, surprised and visibly shaken.
“Her hair was in curlers, she had no makeup on, and she was rude, pushy and rude. I would never have believed it, if I hadn’t seen it myself! She actually stole something, picked it up from the shelf and put it right into her pocket!” Robin went on.
“I have seen her acting on television, I feel as if I know her intimately. There she was looking like a scruffy scarecrow, stealing from the supermarket. I called out loudly, ‘Stop thief!’ Then I was manhandled and pushed away by this Gorilla of a man, who swore at me several times and told me to get lost. The police then arrived, and I was threatened with arrest, for a breach of the peace. I asked to speak to the manager to report the theft of the property, but I was stunned when the manager suddenly burst out laughing, the Police officer was also smiling. Then a tall smartly dressed man stepped forward, his next words took me totally by surprise.”
“We are in the middle of filming an anti-theft short film here. Please accept our apologies for your embarrassing, worthy reaction, we would like you to accept this money to go some way to smoothing over this unfortunate situation!” I am Henry Hills, the director.
Robin grimaced, made appropriate shocked remarks, reflecting his hurt feelings at this unforeseen embarrassment, and left with, £1000.00 in cash.
Later he would be found in the local bar drowning his well smoothed feelings with a velvety smooth Guinness, having passed on £500.00 to his daughter, who worked in the store.