This Week’s words: Escape Exulansis (n. the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it—whether through envy or pity or simple foreignness—which allows it to drift away from the rest of your life story, until the memory itself feels out of place, almost mythical, wandering restlessly in the fog, no longer even looking for a place to land.) Diabolist (activities designed to enlist the aid of devils, esp in witchcraft or sorcery, worship of devils or beliefs and teachings concerning the nature of devils, character or conduct that is devilish or fiendish; devilry) Polite Likeness Fanfare Seethe Soften Adroit (expert or nimble in the use of the hands or body.) Drown Mess Accelerate
Miss Marble loved nothing more than a morning at the cauldron mixing and making any variety of spells, potions and elixirs. If you lived in Grimace Street, No 46 had the best aromas coming from it and there was no escaping them as they wafted up your nose and more often than not stayed overnight resulting in whatever the concoction was, a fabulous might’s rest or one nightmare after another.
After a hard day’s work, she looked forward to sitting on her front veranda with her good friend and neighbour Cath. Miss Marble liked to talk about her day and found in Cath a ready listener. After a glass and a half of Miss Marble’s Cactorum Juice, homemade I should add, Cath was in the mood for a good listen.
The trouble was Cactorum Juice tended to alienate Cath more than engage her. So it was long before Miss Marble realised exulansis had well and truly set in with Cath, as her glassy eyes betrayed her state of non comprehendo. She knew when to give up as Cath would start saying things like “Marbs, I say Marbs, I love you, did you know that?”
Miss Marble was among many things a very polite woman and never wanting to hurt her friend Cath, would allow Cath to fall asleep, always careful that she didn’t drown in her glass of Cactorum Juice.
Knowing Cath would be a right mess when she came round Miss Marble had over the years created a potion designed to soften the effects of the juice and this she had devised as a potion she rubbed onto Cath’s brow as she slept.
Cath would awaken none the wiser ever ready to once again listen to Miss Marble until exulansis began occurring just as Miss Marble would be chatting as to how she avoided creating the seethingly diabolical ‘Fiends Folly’ a potion/spell/elixir that in the wrong hands could be diabolical. Miss Marble wasn’t into sorcery or the dark arts just good old fashioned magic stuff. If you knew what was in it and the likeness it often had to a plate of lamb chops and three veg you’d probably be the one the next day accelerating away from Grimace Street.
But Miss Marble was very adroit at what she did. A dash of this and a nip of that, a pinch of that and a tap of this and there was no need for fanfare as she’d made something to make your hair stand on end, give your kilt a tilt like never before or allow you to cook a meal a king would knight you for.
So after another glass of Cactorum Juice Cath would bid her neighbour good bye and head off home to dream of peaceful places where the diabolical dared not tread for fear of the wrath of one dear Miss Marble.