No choice. Summoned to the Immense — the Great Gods of the Galactic Center — Ana decided to grow up. Thanks to a plant called gigander, Our Lady of Alcor saw her size increase tenfold in a few moments. Now Her Highness deserves her name. Concern: Ana is so big that it no longer fits in the royal spaceship, nor in the transport spaceships. His chamberlain suggests the Flying Wolves.
These magical animals know how to use the corridors of the astral. To make the journey from Alcor to Grand Central, when the fastest rocket will take several months, when an ultra-light hypership takes three weeks, the Magic Wolves will be there in a few nanoseconds. And that, only if they strolled on the way! The idea of using their services can save the Big Girl valuable time. Her New Highness, as it is now called in the Palace.
Ana asks Magellan, her first chamberlain, to bring the Wolves on the terrace of the Royal Palace. But this is impossible, unthinkable, impatient Ana! Wolves are in astral. They have no contact with ordinary people. Ordinary?! Little Grande shouts her crisis. The chamberlain, well-trained, waits for it to pass. And he whispers: His King Grouch should return herself where the Wolves are, it will flatter them. She will find them at the roundabout of Dreams, where the astral joins the daily life.
“Never heard of it!” replied the gracious little vixen. “Where is that fucking place?”
For any answer, a blow on the head sends her immediately to the Land of Chaos. It is dark night. Sitting on a cloud of nothingness, she opens her eyes.
“Hello, a big voice howls.
Ana raises her head. And she sees a Wolf lying in his favorite position. Posture, coat, white fangs, pointed ears, he has everything wolf. Only it is gigantic. So large that it would barely fit in the largest room of its Royal Palace. Fear awaits it. But the surprise is stronger.
No matter how great Her Majesty is, Ana is just a fearful little girl. Blackening. A few drops of pee defile her very large panties. The Gravissime Highness cannot hide her fury. A single growl from the Giant Wolf calms her just now.
“If you want me to drop you off at the Immense, you better go easy. Wherever you are, the slightest anger would kill you. Remember that. And control yourself.
With these words, the great Wolf opens his huge mouth. Ana looks at the red tongue without understanding. A voice in her head intimates her order to sit on the tongue. She obeys. For the first time in her short life, the girl is tamed. Barely sitting on the tongue of the Wolf, the mouth closes on her. The little one is not afraid. Suddenly, the royal girl is healed of her bloody character, her pride, her divine stupidity … and her enuresis.
As soon as he closes, his mouth opens wide. Ana jumps. The light dazzles him. With a snap of a tongue, the Wolf spits it on a trampoline. As she bounces, the Wolf says to her:
“Here we are. You can manage without me now. See you.“
He disappeared! The journey so long didn’t last a second. Ana said to herself that he lied. But no. In front of her, infinite legs. Those of a God whose head is lost in the nude. A voice falls from heaven. So powerful that Ana closes her ears.
– Hello Ana d’Alcor. You are at the Grand Central reception desk. Please wear this G-suit. The attraction here would be unbearable without it. The big black hole would suck you like the dust you are.
Ana executes, mortified but submissive.
– Its Vertiginous Altitude only receives on Wednesdays. Would you like to wait for it?
“It depends… how long?”
– Come on… it’s Tuesday. In your time of the outer constellations, our Wednesday will fall in a year and a half.
If Ana still had her bad temper, sure she would have had a fit. But here, despite her size, she feels very small. No desire to bring her back, grumble, regimber, flinch or lift a finger. She crashes.
The reception of the Grand Central has put a shuttle at her disposal, but a day passes without the goddess Ana having the slightest desire to leave her hotel room. Everything is at its size, which is not the case outside, far from it. The hotel is called Piltormios. It’s a very famous children’s story here — the equivalent of Lilliput.
On the front door is a slogan that reminds him of something, like a few Catholic addicts: Let the little children come to me. In the elevator she read this one: small is beautiful. Soon replaced by: petit est joli. And then: pequeno è bonito. Then: piccolo è bello. Or: klein ist schön. Ana gets out of the elevator while displays: tiny is ridiculous.
Ana does not leave her room. The Little Goddess lounges for hours in the jacuzzi. On the big mirror, a moralizing saying: Cleanliness is also for dwarves. Ana doesn’t care and savours her large body. This blackmailer asshole saw fit to spend a good dose of gigandre on the chest of the girl, who is endowed with a beautiful pair of loches. It is not unpleasant, but she is not too used to it. Nor any bra in her luggage.
Ana is really happy that she’s grown up. She understands that it’s not enough. She advises a special tourist leaflet nabots: Most districts of Grand Central are equipped with an anti-G device. Districts subject to the attraction of the Black Sun are marked by a GLOUPS sign. Watch out, dwarves! Don’t go! It is necessary to exceed the bar of three kilometers high to resist the attraction, to be able to move without shuttle, in the open air, and to sunbathe freely in the winds of light sucked by the Black Sun. So we call the TCM — it’s prettier than Asshole of the World…
– Great Gods! the big girl sneers. I wouldn’t give a damn about three kilometres high!
– Which bike? the pc answers.
The ubiquitous computer responds to every client in their language. The syntax and accent are perfect, but the answers are always very, very stupid.
546 days left, she says bawling.
“546 and a half!” said the pc.
“Shut up!” said Ana.
“You shut up first!” said the stupid pc.
Down in the dumps, Ana went to bed.
On the second day, she dragged herself to the shuttle. The pressure hurt her ears, although she was equipped with waterproof headphones. She saw a box of anti-freeze pills in the bathroom. She forgot to take them. Listening only to her courage that tells her nothing, she is lazy to go back up. It will be better in the shuttle.
She visits the funeral home, the municipal toilet, the supernatural history museum, the museum toilet, a perfectly disgusting bio-necrophication restaurant, and the restaurant toilet.
“Too bad there are no toilets in the shuttle,” she said on the way home.
In the afternoon, she visits the clan clinic of conical bacteria, the toilet of the clinic, the circuit board of the smallest computers. No toilet in there, Ana holds back. And then also the mini planetarium much too big for her, not to mention the disproportionate toilet. On the evening of the fourth day, she toured the attractions suitable for very small people with reduced mobility. The shuttle and the flyer have nothing more to offer her, except to stay home and watch the broken TV mic. We can’t find any infra-dwarf repairers.
The jacuzzi inflates her, especially her breasts. The computer always utters so much bullshit. Time does not go by, she worries. What will they do without me on Alcor? So much so that a week later, she goes back to see the God of hospitality.
“What else do you need? We met not two minutes ago!”
– That’s exactly why. The delay here is too long for me.
“You should have said that. I can send you to the galactic office without waiting for the big boss. Wait a minute.
He presses a gigantic button.
No sooner said than done. Without knowing how, Ana sits in a chair too big for her, while an info-robot gives her a pass. He informs her that a secretary of the Great God of Toddlers can receive her in five minutes. In Ana’s time, it’s been a little less than four days.
Four days to hang! Ana wants to hang herself from a lamp post, but they’re too high. She advises a space bus reserved for tiny microscopic microbes. Organized tour, Grand Central Tourist Tour, GC Tour. She shows her pass. A rob pushes her into the machine, a transparent bubble without a pilot. She is alone on board. The computer asks her to choose her circuit. She absolutely wants to see the Black Sun up close. On a dial, she places her index finger as required. Everything you need to know about her is in the machine. The time available to her on the double scale of here and at home, her tastes and interests, her size, her weight etc.
“Black Sun Tour, start!” said the computer. The bubble flies away. The spectacle that is offered to his sight is truly unimaginable. A vocal comment specifies what she cannot guess. “Hello Goddess Ana. You can see the great vacuum cleaner, as it is colloquially called, in its incessant activity. Look how he creates the spiral of matter and light that forms this whole galaxy, the Milky Way. We are at the heart of the Centre. A little closer to the Black Hole Major, we would be irremediably sucked, one more touch in this dirty light spiral. All it would take is a simple power outage, and that would be the end of you and that bubble. But no risk… no risk… …cr-cun crisque… crirrsque… crrr…“The sound glides, the engine spits, the cabin vibrates. Ana bleeds. She grabs. A mermaid throws her stridences, the bubble swings towards the deadly spiral. Ana bites her lips to avoid screaming terror. Her seat shakes her guts and makes her teeth snap. Damn it, she thought. If only I were a thousand times taller!! Gods, let the bubble resist the attraction!
Ana feels the cabin flattening like an egg. A deadly cold invades the goddess. Calm, almost relaxed, she thinks: “I’m screwed.“
Next : Fountain Whity
We are dealing with two Christianisms in Britain, the British and the Celts.
This large carved stone poses a host of questions to which I will try to…
"Pharaonic Egypt is an African civilization, developed in Africa by Africans":
You know the seven chakras on the body of energy. What about the others?
"I have raised women! I have dared flames!" (Cahiers Ficelle, unpublished)