The Story So Far…

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Miraculously my memory returned and with it my wayward identity. I could remember almost everything – that I was an artistic genius of unparalleled proportions; that I was from a tiny East Sussex village called Mogwash; and that my most recent artworks were visual representations of concealed emotional torment. Indeed, with my ‘Bottled Feelings’ I had revelled in the simultaneous expressions of concealment and revelation with a creative flair not witnessed in an individual since August 10th 1903. I also remembered that I was the highly intelligent, yet modest author, of the much loved ‘Wonky Words’ fiction blog that had garnered a cult following of Yahoo slurps, googlebots, and some important people in Washington… FBI bots…
Via my excellent website, wonky-words.com, I had left a series of ingenious clues that would lead my faithful readers to a bottle known as ‘Bottled Greed’, a bottle filled with a smorgasbord of treasured trinkets and priceless family heirlooms – probably hidden somewhere within the vicinity of Luddley-cum-Mogwash.
Frustrated that belief in ‘Bottled Greed’ was minimal, I puzzled over the problem of convincing my readership of my sincerity…
There was only one thing for it…. I’d dig the damn thing up myself…. buy a new car, some new boots…. the Estee Lauder Beauty counter…. invest in some art…. if only I could remember where I’d buried the damn thing….

20 thoughts on “The Story So Far…

    • Ponita, between you and me… I am confused too… BUT… I think it is some kind of treasure hunt. Maybe we were all hoping that the last post was the LAST post… sadly not. The trauma continues….
      Sx

  1. i think i take exception to this: ‘Wonky Words’ fiction blog that had garnered a cult following of Yahoo slurps, googlebots, and some important people in Washington… FBI bots…

    are you calling me an fbi bot?

  2. ” … creative flair not witnessed in an individual since August 10th 1903.”
    10th of August 1903.
    There was a fire in the Metro, Eleanor Lambert was born. Anais Nin in the same year (21st of February). It’s the day of Laurentius, Lawrence, his attribute is a roast. Pox on wikipedia, who needs something like “Literature of 1903” or such, when important articles like “1903 in Digging” or “Bottle Related Inventions of 1903” are missing ?

    • Mr Wells… how you got away with not being called Mr Ducks is beyond me…
      Anyhow, I Googled to check the accuracy of your comment… Sadly the wine waiter was Pythagoras, and not Aristotle. An easy mistake to make.
      Sx

  3. Venice! You buried it in Venice – Sophie Calle’s Suite Venitienne is the final clue I needed to make this ludicrous proposal.

    Or, maybe somewhere in Birmingham? Hasn’t Birmingham got more canals than Venice? Or is that Manchester? I think it’s more likely you surrepticiously followed someone from Mogwash to Birmingham (or Manchester) and buried the Bottle of Greed there.

    Actually, ignore the above preposterousness. Mr Lax knocked my deductive reasoning for a six when he realised that this was a contest, yet did not ask: “Did I win yet?”

  4. When I left home for the Coast Guard, I took the diaries I kept in high school and, not wanting anyone to find them, buried them in a plastic bag in a nearby forest. I was never able to find them again. I forgot exactly where I put them! So let the be a lesson to you (us).

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