Within Les Spirites City is a house, la maison de rêves, owned by a lesbians who took her lesbian guests into a dreamworld, where only lesbians ventured.
They file into Les Spirites through airports and stations, sit in taxis and limbos, in LA’s infamously long traffic.
Finally, they reach la maison de rêves, at the end of Les Spirites city outskirts. This destination was escape from life: into rooms of rest, pleasures, masseurs, pedicures, and dream specialists who took them into dream using their own specially patented legal cocktail of herbs, cultivated from exotic locations across the world.
The latest group of lesbians stood in the ante-chamber of the house.
Together, they were a rainbow of colors: different race, skin tone, clothings. Some were 40, 30, 20, or a little younger.
In one open room on a chair, a woman of bronze skin, blond hair with dark roots, refreshing beauty. Her loin was exposed, willingly, to another lesbian who moved her lips over it.
Some college girls move quietly pass the room to their assigned rooms. One of them noticed the words on the door.
‘Lasbeun Dirm’
What is this? She askes. She is red-haired, with a slightly bony and boyish frame: pretty in her lesbian way.
An older lesbian – her dream specialist – guides her to her room. Gives her a chalice brimming with water and exotic herbs used by natives to go into their dream trances.
Did you read the agreement? The specialist asks. The red-haired lesbian (‘Karen’) nods. She places the chalice on a stand, unclothes, and spreads her legs slightly.
The older lesbian (‘Natty’) pours into the chalice: the water has a tinge of brilliant blue. Karen drinks. Her partner knees.
Karen’s vision blur, then the room becomes filled with a hue, of rainbow like colors. The light in the room shines brighter, intensely. In her mind, she flies into it, as into a worm-hole.
Suddenly the room was replaced by another room. Her body suddenly has on its shirt and a skirt she hitches up: her loin is exposed to a lithe lesbian (‘Jill’). Jill is vigorously kissing her loin, exploring every millimeter of it with her lips and tongue. Heat flows to her loins, a mild stupor grips her body.
They speak together. They make plans together. The Jill leaves.
One day, an assuming parent walks in, talked sternly to ‘Karen’. How her parent knew: Karen didn’t know. Jill fails to show up the next day: her parent has something to do with it. She know it. She grows sad. How does it happen?
Then the room flashes again. It changes. Instead of walls and items, there are strings of words moving through the air. Some words zips around like dragonflies and others wavers like kites. She is back on her bed again, but it’s ghostly, made up of letters that say ‘sheet’, ‘bed’. Jill places her soft hands on Karen’s dress, pushes it, and pulls down her underwear, exposing soft, delicate flesh. Jill put her mouth to Karen’s loins: then strings of letter billow and swell around her loin, they circle and drift, through the invisible walls. Karen floated from her body and followed the words that were flowing from her body. They flow to a room, her parent in it: they drifts into her parent’s ears. They swirl and swirl until the parent moves. By then, Jill left. But her parent enters the room, lectures Karen on her lesbian relationships.
As a specter, Karen suddenly knows. Or she guesses that she knows. The room flashes again. Strands of light and matter connect everything to a pulsating mass of shadowy figures and light, she thinks she recognizes her parent among them. They are in light, swirling with letters and words. Every word or thought that went through her mind travels down the strands. Suddenly, it’s as though she’s exposed. She escapes her house. She bumps into a group of lesbians running from shadows shaped like men, suffused with light and letters swirling around them.
One of the lesbians beckon to her: ‘hurry’. ‘Where?’ She asked. ‘To Natty’s’ they reply. No sooner did they spoke, her words travel into the air and fall with speed toward the shadows covered in English words. The shadows seem to consume the words and react as though they just heard everything. They move at them with speed.
The lesbians zart to the city. They go into a warehouse with blurred glassed. A shadow man floats by. From the second floor, they watch until the shadow man was many miles away. Then one of them spoke. ‘He’s gone! We’re safe, here’. Karen remembered the words that floated from them earlier. ‘Don’t’ she said. She tried to grab at the words that zip from the lesbians. Over miles the words zips: the shadow in the distance is struck by it, it jumps and looks back the warehouse with new comprehension. The shadow beckons to other shadows: they grow in numbers and descend to the warehouse like an army.
The lesbians start and look at themselves: exposed (again). They feel it. Two of them are missing (‘Kelly’ and ‘Eliza’). They move to a bed in the storage area, in soft carousing motion made love to each other. The others frantically move to the door: they have to escape. But too late.
The door opened: shadow men file in. They seemed not to noticed Kelly or Eliza. But then, neither of them seem to know English, their words emerging like indecipherable texts with a strange purplish hue.
Karen herd the others behind storage boxes. She places her hand over the mouth of the one who spoke, and strains hard to purge her own mind of words. The shadows investigate the warehouse for an hour it seem.
Carla orgasms as the shadows left the house. She sighs as the last shadow leaves the building. Karen walk softly to the door and gently close it. Above the door were the words, ‘Lasbeun Dirm’.
She repeats the word ‘Lasbeun’. Her heart grew briefly faint: she darted to the window. Not a shadow stirred in the distance. She repeats the word again. The word does not provoke notice. On the door: ‘dir’. On the window: ‘wendiw’. She repeats those words. Not a stir from the outside.
The room flashes again. Jill is before her again, kissing Karen’s loin. Above her loin floats a strange word: ‘vugenu’. ‘Vugenu’ she murmurs. The words floats from her mouth. Stricken, she follows the word to a shadow in the room below: the word floats into the shadow, the shadow stirs. The shadow flashes: Karen sees with surprised. It was her parent.
The word ‘vugenu’ flit like a butterfly through and through the lobes of her parent who stir not or reacted not. It flashes and scintillates, but still, the parent does not react. When Jill leaves, no talk ensued between Karen or anyone on whether or not Jill was right for her.
She flashes back to the warehouse. Her lesbians move through the city, evading the shadows. But using the strange words that they found in the warehouse, they could speak and shadows stirred not.
‘Cima hara’, they learned to say, instead of ‘come here’.
The city is a nexus of countless streams of words they learn. Every word they spoke, encrypted, caused no stir. Impossible, absurd, that they see texts and words flying like bees and flies, but so it is: in a dream world, the absurd is the law.
Karen breaks off from the group and finds Jill in her room, at home. At night, they softly press lips together. Pleasure courses through their softer nether regions.
One day, a lesbian (‘Lauren’) forgets herself. She says ‘hey’. The shadows descend on her: they take her and vanish into a ball of light. Karen dashes after her, into the light. She is back in the more normal world: but texts still fly like dragonflies, butterflies, and fast birds. She finds the word ‘Lauren’ flying through the air: she chases it to a house. Lauren is surrounded by shadows: blurred, they become more refined, until Karen recognizes people through the blur. They are Lauren’s parents. They speak to her intensely. She has a future they say: as a doctor. She is not going to throw it away on her lesbian friends.
Karen looked on with sadness. She spoke the encrypted tongue she learned. “Luoran,” she spoke softly, “Cima hara”. Her parents reacts not, but Lauren recognized it (‘come here’). She asks to be excused and go to her room. Her window flew open, and she climbed down the tree and quickly rejoined Karen. Gripping hands, they fly to the city. Through all this, neither truly resent Lauren’s relatives. But they need to fly free, to be what they are. So they do, they fly.. Back to the city.
Karen is only vaguely aware of her experiences: a dream world. It seems as though each experience is telling her something. The suburbs: a realm between dreams and the real world, like a semi-wakeful state. But something grabs her and pulls her from the city, through the dreamy suburb realm. She awakes: Natty hands resting on her shoulder.
Karen speaks, but Natty gives her a cautioning look.
‘Hiw leng wus e iot?’ (How long was I out)?.
‘Leng aniogh’ (long enough) is the reply.
She travels past the throne room again. The blond lesbian no longer on it: her partner gone, too.
In room, her partner waits. Karen unclothes and embraces her partner. They make love through the night. Were the silence deeper, the pleasure deeper, Karen scarcely would believe it.
The next day, Karen drinks from the chalice. An agreement form in the hands of Natty who gives it after Karen signs a list of agreements, claiming knowledge and consent. The water tinged red, rippled in the chalice, as her lips touched it. Looks like blood, but it isn’t: had a sharp sweetness to it.
The light in the room shine, intensely. Her mind flies to it, like a sparrow to its nest.
Her lesbian cohorts are nowhere to be seen. She had grown accustomed to their presence.
Instead she finds a child, under red light, strand of strange redness pulsing into her head.
The text flowing into the child were ‘dos’ and ‘don’ts’. As soon as Karen stepped closer, the texts flashed crimson, and text flew into the room, ‘don’t associate with that girl’. The child snaps out of her reverie and looked intensely and accusingly at Karen. The room flashed, Karen flies out of the room like a spirit.
She finds herself on the streets. She passes her house. Text in the world flew.. ‘If only I knew someone like me’.. It lead back to her house… She thought the text emerged from a girl she recognized as herself at age 12. But no, it was her mother (she passed away years ago). A beautiful woman of some Irish and German blood, a faint distant Cherokee blood, her mother stood at the sink. The words ‘if only I had someone to speak to..’ Echoed in her mind.. ‘Someone like me’.
She flies back to the room with the strange girl under red light. Strands leading to distant shadows connected this girl to a spiritual world that had sharp prejudices. Karen masks her thought in ‘Lasbeun’, she became as a blur moving through the room. People seem to notice her not as she traveled through them.
Jill awaits her at Karen’s home. ‘It’s my turn’, she says. Karen takes her to a room, undresses Jill: her lips travels up and down Jill, exploring every soft crevice and bump on her body. Their bodies pulsates with pleasure.
She awakes to see a blue strand emerging from her head into an infinite distance, it seems. Text and words travel down the strand like brilliant, scintillating sparkles of light. ‘Cima hara’, it seems to command.
She follows it: like a dream to a familiar warehouse. She opens the door, and enters it. Her old lesbian friends surround her, including ‘Kelly’ and ‘Eliza’. ‘Whara huva uio ban?’ (Where have you been?).
Relief floods her. Karen notices they still avoid direct English, even though the shadow men were long gone. No sign of them in this city.
They exchange hugs, a few of them kisses with her.
Suddenly she awakes, to see Natty’s face, with a knowing look on her face. ‘Walcima buck’, she said. She blinks. ‘Sorry?’
‘Welcome back’, Natty repeats.
As if to give her rest, Natty sends her to the beach. And Karen bronzes in the sun, wearing her swimsuit.
Although she rests, she awaits the next day. And she drinks from the chalice again: its water tinged green.
She flew into a dream world. But deeper. A woman bronze-skinned and full awaits her. Karen surrenders to her, willingly. Pleasure courses through her as the woman explored her, as she would a lover: with caresses, kisses, and hugs.
Pleasure centers in her nether region, grows, and intensifies in her vugenu region. Her thoughts unperturbed by doubts or fears. Pleasure crests and grow, until it seem explodes in her lower region. Then catharsis. Relief.
She collapses from exhaustion, the good kind.
For once, without anxiety, she marvels the complexity of her body, how it rises to the occasion of pleasure, as naturally as breathing, almost.
She drifts into waking. Her partner and Natty waiting.
She kisses Natty good-bye the next morning. Natty gives her a souvenir, a oval swiggle shaped like an eye. ‘Lasbeun’ art she calls it.
She travels back to her real life, but using a tongue known only to her lesbian partners. None of those words travels beyond their secret usage of it, and no shadows of doubt bothers them.
One day, her new sex partner (‘Kara’) returns with her to her apartment: after intense sex, they rested. She noticed: her partner wore rings around her fingers and straps around her legs (an amazon, a ring lesbian, or both). This was Les Spirites, after all.
They return to Natty another day. Karen resume her spiritual journey through the world that would come to define her and other lesbians as a group with their own words (for everything).
She drinks from a chalice: water tinged with yellow. A ethery woman in robes appear to her in a compound of buildings. Women with bare-chest and bronze skin heaves hoes into the dirt. ‘Who are they?’ She asks. The ethery woman said, ‘yours’.
Your people.. Uior paipla..
Through the compound, were lesbians of every race, creed, tongue, and age, working as one.
Some were blond and bronze-skinned: lift heavy things, fasten roof tiles with ease. Others speak many language and were scholars or teachers, or both. They are independent, but confident.. They are all here.. In this compound of opportunities..
She awakes from the dream to see ‘Kara’ and Natty. They return home, Kara and Karen.
In bed, Kara is a fit lesbian who likes giving pleasure, almost as well as she receives it.
Kara grunted as Karen expertly applied her lips to Kara’s soft vugenu, giving her the most pleasure possible. Kara would always be special, even bright in some respects – seeing the world around her as a nexus of connections, as Karen does: for this, they belong together.
Karen develops her own movement, which she calls ‘Ascupa’ (escape).
Karen’s Ascupa (escape) was not from friendships or connections, but from doubts. It’s escape to freedom, to be, to live, to breathe, as the heart leads her on.
Afterword:
The story was devised by a local community of lesbians who grow their own food and manage their own businesses. The words in the story are fictional, only intended to convey their effort to define their community, and use a tradition that every true society employs to be their own world: a language, of their own.
Creative of commons story..
Commentary by Authors:
The shadow men in this story express personal doubts, and can be interpreted a number of other different ways, according to the preferences of the reader. For instance, they can represent the general darkness of dark entertained by phobias, racism, and discrimination.
The ‘texts’ and ‘strands’ in this story are to express ways that ideas that can impact people, cultures, and individuals. They are not a literal interpretation but rather, they are a metaphorical interpretation of how ideas impact people.
The child in this story has no particular significance. If there is one idea that he / she could represent, it’s the notion of ‘taboo’, a reference to the socially forbidden cultural archetype of lesbians as being ‘off-limits’. Karen’s second encounter with the ‘taboo’ is to find a new way of expressing and finding herself, through simply ‘moving’ on to another way or place.
The language in this story is a simple code that involves shifting the vowels. The inherent idea is that languages can only express an idea or a group’s own ideas through the creation of a language unique to them. This led to the creation of English, French, German, Prussian, Slavic, Asian languages: the idea being, they could only forge a new identity and a new culture through a particular focus on sounds and ideas they agree. The language is random, has no particular significance among the lesbians or LBGT members in North America. It is completely fictional and has no use whatever among any group or individuals or people whatsoever.
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