Iris (or How To Fuel Panic By Mentioning The Word ‘Terror’) – Part Three

June 17th, 2009

Thrust thrust thrust thrust

Three days later they came across a deserted village covered in the darkest cloud Iris had ever seen. All the houses were empty, abandoned for some time. Most of the buildings were already starting to crumble apart from a church which stood directly in the middle of the village. A terrible noise was coming from it but alas neither of them could hear it. Nasel, however, could smell something close by and it had to be in the church. Iris peered inside. Huge stone walls, empty pews and an altar greeted her presence. She slowly walked in and was met with a strange sight; a pair of ears were hanging from one of the ropes attached to the church bells. It looked as though she had gotten caught up and couldn’t shake herself free. With help from Nasel, Iris managed to climb up and let the ears free. The ears were very grateful. In the same inexplicable way she had managed to communicate with Nasel, Iris convinced Stirrup, the ears, to join their group. Stirrup wiggled in excitement, something that unnerved Iris at first until she realised it was a good thing rather than a seizure. None of them knew first aid, or at least she thought none of them did. It hadn’t come up yet.

The following night Nasel had a vivid dream. In it he was sat in a glossy Las Vegas-esque room full of people gambling and shouting loudly. As the lights dimmed at least twenty-six brazen hussies, wearing skimpy Irish bikini, pranced onstage. It was as unexpected as it was provocative. But he could see! He could see everything for once which was what probably scared him. To be witness to such a sexy show merely confused the young nose and he promptly woke up once he fell off his stool. The stool in the dream. Not a real stool. They were camped in a small opening at this point. Not a stool in sight. He was back in the black again, back in the dark. The smell of bacon streamed up his nostrils much to his delight.

A couple of weeks had passed and Iris had already two new friends. There were only two more directions left to travel and after a tricky game of rock / paper / scissors it was decided they would head South to look for the mouth. Nasel liked this because it rhymed. He would think about that often in his darker moments of which we cannot speak of. Walking together in a group they were beginning to resemble the features of what should be a face. When they came across a passport photo booth they all crammed inside and Iris balanced a banana where the mouth should have been, and it almost, almost looked right. This made Stirrup wiggle with excitement, again, which knocked the booth over and they were asked to leave the post office without further notice.

And so their journey continued.

Entry Filed under: Bedtime stories,Ian,Quite nice