A large portly gentleman baring dark brown suspenders, a mustard yellow shirt, copper corduroy pants and no shoes. He looked down at Malcolm and squinted through a very thick pair of what Malcolm concluded to be reading glasses if for a bat. The man flashed his abnormally white teeth at Malcolm and pushed him through another dark and heavy curtain.
Malcolm found himself in the center of a very bright and very quiet stage. Before his eyes were 4 chairs facing away from him and beyond the chairs a thousand eyes stared into his fur. Suddenly, but actually not so suddenly, the far left chair lit up and began to turn, and as the inhabiter of the chair became visible, Malcolm was stunned with shock. No sneeze could even think about squeezing out of his nose he was so tense with unbelievery (yes, that is a real word, don't try and look it up).
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
Meerkat Minor Ch. 9
Poor Malcolm. He's passed out quite a bit during this story hasn't he? Don't think us (Malcolm's writers) cruel; it's simply the truth. Malcolm has, what some might call, a delicate disposition that causes him to pass out at the tiniest breeze or whiff of illness. But in this case, Malcom's weak constitution was not to blame, for the wall he had run into was an enchanted wall.
Now, that word "enchanted" is thrown around a lot these days, isn't it? But it's true - this wall was under the influence of a spell. So heavy under the influence of a charm, was this wall, that even touching it with his tiny meerkat nose subjected him to some of that magic.
When Malcolm woke up again, he was in the middle of what felt like a giant cosmos. Waves of cerulean and ebony and lavender (those are fancy words for "blue" and "black" and "purple." Feel free to use them when you're feeling pretentious) swirled around him. Like chalk blown in the wind, when the waves hit him, they simply dispersed into tiny particles around him. There also were little pinpricks of light that shone through the waves and glittered away when the light hit Malcolm. Although he was confused, Malcolm rather liked being there, suspended in space. It was peaceful, and he found that he could sort of swim through space. He made a game of quickly swirling the chalky pieces into doodles before they drifted away. He also tried to bite the pieces of light as they drifted past him. He was in the middle of chasing one particularly drowsy piece of glittery light when he heard something that stopped him.
"Malcolm? Is that you?"
The sound reverberated through the inky space.
Malcolm rolled himself all around, like you might do somersaults in a pool, trying to find the voice. But in the midst of his somersaults, he got a mix of light and chalky wave up his nose causing him to sneeze. The force of the sneeze shot him backwards (upwards? sidewards? He couldn't tell) straight through a curtain that had been hidden before, camouflaged against the cosmos.
After a second sneeze, third sneeze, Malcolm looked up and saw the owner of The Voice.
Now, that word "enchanted" is thrown around a lot these days, isn't it? But it's true - this wall was under the influence of a spell. So heavy under the influence of a charm, was this wall, that even touching it with his tiny meerkat nose subjected him to some of that magic.
When Malcolm woke up again, he was in the middle of what felt like a giant cosmos. Waves of cerulean and ebony and lavender (those are fancy words for "blue" and "black" and "purple." Feel free to use them when you're feeling pretentious) swirled around him. Like chalk blown in the wind, when the waves hit him, they simply dispersed into tiny particles around him. There also were little pinpricks of light that shone through the waves and glittered away when the light hit Malcolm. Although he was confused, Malcolm rather liked being there, suspended in space. It was peaceful, and he found that he could sort of swim through space. He made a game of quickly swirling the chalky pieces into doodles before they drifted away. He also tried to bite the pieces of light as they drifted past him. He was in the middle of chasing one particularly drowsy piece of glittery light when he heard something that stopped him.
"Malcolm? Is that you?"
The sound reverberated through the inky space.
Malcolm rolled himself all around, like you might do somersaults in a pool, trying to find the voice. But in the midst of his somersaults, he got a mix of light and chalky wave up his nose causing him to sneeze. The force of the sneeze shot him backwards (upwards? sidewards? He couldn't tell) straight through a curtain that had been hidden before, camouflaged against the cosmos.
After a second sneeze, third sneeze, Malcolm looked up and saw the owner of The Voice.
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