leggings reference

At the end of the shift, Kitty had about cooked the books, and set four future appointments for Phyliss, who sighed over the extra work and socialising.
"It's not the design I mind," she muttered as we struggled into coats. It was still raining.
"I'll be back tomorrow," I said and followed Kitty into the street. She half turned to me and sugested, "A coffee? After that I've a meeting to go too!"
I nodded coffee sounded good, Phyliss was on a strictly tea thing.
"What kind of meeting have you lined up?" She seemed much more positive.
"I've been going to Church," she replied shortly, "Today the Bible Society are in town to do a talk. I thought I'd go."
"I've never been to one, can I come?" I'd a few hours before I was due to meet Paul. I had to shop for new leggings, I felt the need for patterned ones. However this old fashioned way of looking at the world felt comfortably familiar.
"Yes, I'm sure you'd be welcome." There was no hesitation in her voice.

The talk was held in the back of a Church, and ran on with the new computer video's complimenting the speaker's voice. It was nice. I felt good. I joined in with the group discussion, and felt outraged when we were told that Lord Seb Coe (he was at school with me for a bit) wouldn't allow the atheletes to have Bibles...

At the end of the talk a hornet flew straight at me presumably from the door leading to the toilets when someone left by that route. It made a loud noise, and at close quarters resembled (puros. due to my sight) a barrel like object with wings flapping all around it (flyspy, p pullman, snitch, jk rowling, old spy stuff? aka bright house catalogue).

I played stupid human, waved arms in air and went "Eek!" a few times to deflect it. Surprisingly it was noticed by someone else to have disappeared into thin air a few. feet behind me.
"Hey where did that thing go?" he asked. I looked for it, and was told it had probably gone to the window, or fallen on the floor. ( plotline - If I had caught it would I have stopped all this? Was it a real insect? Is it possible that they carry sound, & continue to broadcast when down? Is that why in the early stages I heard the hornet's whine. So if a place is used twice, the insects (recievers/broadcasters) are in place? Is the idea too used?)

Two ladies at back of meeting: sat talking, one told the other about the way that Romanies (although I'm not sure it's the Romanies in this instance) go about getting even with people they don't like. Apparently the electric guns cause the hair follicles to fallout, and the victim ends up bald. ( more - So far a lot of mine has comcae away, its no longer so African in appearance, it's now not far away from normal English hair. Not sure I like it! Another way is the radiation plot... too evil to describe, however if they really do this, it must go sterility in all the people in the room. Is this to prepare them for the bdsm market? It gives me a dreadful headache. I'm not certain how pyschosomatic this headache is... )

I goggled as one told the other she didn't want to know about witches. I looked at Kitty for a reaction only she was busy talking to someone about buying a large print Bible.

"Are you doing much today?" Kitty asked, "Only I'm off back to the village in a bit, you could come with me if you liked. She sounded nervous. Strained.
"I was going to meet up with Paul round about 6ish." I admitted, "I could come over for a few hours if you wished."
"Great," she said enthusiastically, "Come on then, I got to tell you, the weirdo's are still at it. You might not wish to be my friend." She shot a dark guilty glance at me. I knew they were still at it. They were said to be mad.

"How bad is it?" I enquired.
"I woke up last night to hear that phoney woman next door reading one of my early version of an old book aloud."
"One of your books," Phyliss had told me about her writing. "You won a big competition didn't you?"
"Not for the books," she said quietly, "And that was weird stuff, that competition."
"How did they get the book? Was it in the shops?"
"No thats just it, I didn't give it to them either. I sent some out to the foster family and that was about it. I think there's a version held on a computer data bank somewhere, thats about it. Too weird. Must have been a dream. Silly woman was claiming she wrote it."

"How bad was it?"
"Well I never thought it was that good, except read aloud, it sounded really not bad."
"Did you face her out on it?" I asked outraged. I knew how much courage it took to go out there in the middle of the night. I wouldn't have.
"She'd have denied it." Kitty said crossly, "Then someone would make out I was mad. Been there! Got the t-shirt!"
I didn't know what to say to that. Change the subject, I thought... Quick!

"So this competition?" I asked, safe subject, I thought hopefully.
"It was the Netherlands Radio Poetry Competion around 2003 with a medical theme. I made up a poem called Deja Vu and I think it won."
"You think it won?" I asked, "Don't you know?"

"They sent me an email saying I'd won a lottery never mentioned the poetry competition. Send back the email to the lottery, and everyone said it was a scam. So I never did. I got sick, lost my computer. Then I had a new computer and lost outlook, and the only other copy is on an online.com site. The main prize was a comunity prize for the town of L, in suffolk, a small prize for me and a published book of poetry. I asked the administrator to have a look for me on the servers because for no reason at all they banned me from the site. I'm still not sure what happened. The town did get some money from the EU and did up the high street, however I've always wondered what they'd have got from that ticket if it wasn't spam. The poem turned up on Doctor's sites for years."
I stared at her, horrified. "That's a mess!" I said. "I get spam too, I don't know what I'd have done in that case."
"Yeah," she said sadly, "Only if it were a lot, and was real. Think! They could have had sea defences. It floods! Right up into McDonalds. I've never heard from the administrator. Perhaps he can't find it either."

................................................

Later: I after a scarely comfortable cup of cofee with the neighbour's noises unpleasantly loud, I left to catch the bus to Norwich. It was raining again.
Along the main road, someone was collecting children, perhaps for a playschool or something in a posh minibus.
"Will bring them back later when it's not so hot!" he called. "The network is down all over the country..."

It was raining. What was the significance of it. Were these the children said to be on the estate? Products of the 'breeding programme' that Kitty had been tortured about. The things that they said were extraordinary. Or was it all too far fetched, and a network of fathers without partners were trying to keep their chidren... with help.

I had to think, we'd been to the shops on the way home and I was still thinking it all through. The theme seemed to be a murder of harrassment, and a ritual rite of moving forward for the harrassers. I've made notes below. Kitty was doing her best to ignore most of it.

plot not finished......................................................friday
3. Perhaps 2 set ups today up at the village shops. One guy (shock dark hair, medium height, slightly stocky build had self drive hire van) came rushing in to talk to sales guy, asser that 'She wanted her money back as they had failed to worry her (the victim) to death'. Sales guy (younger, late adolescent to early 20s, dark rough short hair, tall thin scruffy) muttered that I was in shop, and insisteed they talked another time. I need to do some more about these two, put the the dark man with a dark dog... make him a dog walker and part of an information network. Who is the dark man and what could he be after? Is it a part of a satanic ritual of growing up, and being a man: to harrass someone to death? As for some women: another is to have to sleep with another woman's husband to prove you are worth it as a woman... equally nasty... Heck such nasty nasty people.

4. This postal stuff is a nightmare, I need to keep on going as it's a main theme. Howabouts postal worker who's so helpful that when she's told someone's moved she offers to take letter out to someone else after shes told that they know where she has to take it. "I tried that," she says, "Someone down there told me she doesn't live there. I'm only being helpful. She shouldn't be so mean. They are her family...." What if they're not? Some of us haven't any local family... etc etc...
wonder if this is what happened with the poetry competition?

3 & 4 Have they heard from the radio shoutalots about the book here, and want a place in the plot? I hear that one of them is making another book based on mine, on another site, complete with swear words, and stronger accusations. I need to do more about these would be dopplegangers. I wonder if its a tweat site? Not sure if they are trying to make out its mine or theirs. Perhaps even an echo, as they broadcast what they think I'm thinking... could be worked in. They have had a visitor (actual or telepathically) who threatened me, I'm not having that, I threatened k1,p1 with knitting needles.

5. .... bit removed. estate? bdsm estate?

6. If a new vulcano forms, will it split the UK into two? or just reform the harbour and the old sea loch? Are the old cobbles cobbles? 11th century cobbles are the size of heads, however if the slave trade came in by this route...

7. Are the psychic tribe aiming for a reference that they weren't in C, Glouc ten years ago? For years they left me alone, with perhaps a few of them in each area. Mum once said something about them waiting for my children to grow up....

Now I'm concerned that if they kill me: the gateway to my chidren is open and they aren't trained in this. I guess I'd best stay alive.

They were in L, Suffolk in some quantity: locals talk of the bad people tLiverpool, etc. That could account for the Poetry mix up esp if on PC. I moved to L, Suffolk following university in 2000. Most of them moved over here during that time, before I went to E.D, Norfolk. I found them in Mattishall during this battle, over something that was left to me apparently and which they have perhaps due to their wonderful way with the post.

Will they follow me if I leave here: as they did my father, not sure, Dad raged furiously, really lost his way in strong emotion. They really love hysterics, because they can use the energy. I'm a source - and I was one for years for one person. I am the wrong kind of energy for the Psychic tribe, and if they have everything I was ever left or won, then they have nothing to run after me for.

I cannot establish that all of them were not in C, Gloucester ten years ago. I am not certain of what their names were, in each place, or who they are face to face.

I cannot establish how far psychics can use linking to talk, or to influence or to frighten others, I know that it dimishes by distance.