The immortal ishanti bell
The immortal ishanti bell
Ishanti bell is a immortal women who will live forever, she's not the most kind person in the world, but at least she's very generous with her wine! She's never let her immortality effect her, and she always, eventually, gets over her dead lovers, even if it takes a few tubs of nuttela. She prefers animals to people, because she often comes of as rude to people because of her extreme sarcasm. ishanti literally can not cook to save her chameleon, Oh yes! She also plans on buying a chameleon. She's funny, sarcastic, and cannot cook, ladies & gents Ishanti bell.0
Action / Adventure
Ishanti strolled down the stone path as it twisted and winded around the waterfall.
She brushed her gold nails along the rusted old handrails as her short, messy, bob like hair swished around her neck, it looked pretty, shining in the ruthless sun pounding down on her.
Luckily she had predicted weather as such; and dressed accordingly.
After her haircut, She had eventually decided to go trail walking, where she could get away from all the crowds and pickpockets, because where there are crowds, there are always pickpockets, there was, of course, a slight chance that she was being a tad paranoid.
She tilted her head sideways and smiled, perfectly content with the once strange noises of Costa Rica.
There was once a time where she wanted nothing more then to escape her 'homeland', and travel around the world, her skirts swishing around her feet as she leapt from one place to another.
It was one of the reason she came here, but, as the years flew by, it had come to her attention that there was not much left to do.
But it wasn't all that bad,ishanti had not yet been to Greece, so there were still things to see, But Ishanti was not quite ready to let go of her little Spanish cocoon, so she searched
Around in vain for something of her amusement.
So she swaggered on, ignoring the weird looks from other tourists,-- in all honesty she could not be called a tourist; ishanti has been here more than 73 times, she owned a 'apartment sort of thing', she had a tailor in one of the lower-class streets, unless of course, he's dead, which is very likely, considering where he'd been living.-- the cause of the weird looks, was perhaps because of her dress, it was a pretty black thing with lots of hidden pockets everywhere, but not exactly trail attire. But it didn't matter to her, the dress was comfortable and pretty, wasn't that enough?
Besides, could one really be jugged for looking damn fine?
no one could not. She thought.
Alright, so perhaps a short flowy black dress and gray flats were not exactly her best decision.
But what the heck, it was Ishanti's birthday!
and no one to celebrate it with. A little voice said who deserved to well and truly die.
She had been ignoring this voice for a long time now.
and it shall stay that way she thought.
Up ahead she could see the end of the trail, She had been so deep in thought she had not even realized she'd been walking for up to 2 hours, it was quite a long trail. In the corner of her eye she saw something move, this had been happening for a while now and she was not going to let this opportunity pass, she whirled around her with sheer determination, her skirts lifting up wildly, she gave a little pang of thankfulness that she had now already passed the small villages on the side of the road.
She narrowed her eyes,and stood completely still for a long while, scanning the thick forest, ishanti turned her head slightly, seeing a shadow move across the forest floor, but it was just a monkey, they had grown quite tame since the trails fame grew. She sighed, after about a eternity, giving up. Maybe she was going mad, it was quite possible that she was going mad, in all honesty it would probably be a relief, but she wasn't quite ready to submit to this, and quickly flicked that thought away.
"Im not crazy"
she told herself out loud and turned around, wanting to announce it to the whole forest as if it would make her statement come true
"because I've seen quite a few crazy people in my lifetime, and all of them can't dress to save their lives, and I wouldn't blame them, it would be mercy to all the fashion designers out there
she nodded to herself, happy with this logic, turned back around, and strolled on.
She was feeling rather peckish at this point of time, she remembered she had bought a rather delicious looking blueberry muffin from a little refreshment store on the side of the road, from halfway through the trail.
She eagerly searched around for her muffin in her pockets, she remembered how appalled her Afrikaans tailor in Africa was when she said she wanted pockets,
she was most definitely not going to call a ambulance again for a hyperventilating seamstress, it was possibly one of the most humiliating moments in her life, ishanti did not show embarrassment nor did she enjoy it, or laugh about it in the end, it was one of her rules.
In the end it was all for nothing because the tailor-woman had quit the African industry-because that's where she was at the time- and decided to take her business to Paris,
ishanti had politely asked why, only to be answered with muttering about demented customers who wanted pockets for their dresses, ishanti refused to believe this comment was directed at her and politely leaved
Knowing all to well that the tailor-woman would later sit down on her flight seat, only to realize that her $4,000 genuine antique watch was gone,
and honestly, at that moment ishanti would probably be pawning the watch whilst creating some elaborate, lavish, story on how she got her hands on it, it was quite entertaining, really, irritating annoying people.
It was another one of her talents, as was sewing, she later found out, she never got her pockets sewed on, so she had to do a little, hand-sewing,
suffice to say, she got a little bit carried away...
She stuck her hand in hidden pocket 27 and immediately felt the soft texture of the muffin. She pulled down the flimsy almost see-through white paper wrapped around her blueberry muffin and took a generous bite.
She remembered when she had lived in the mountains in Melbourne, she had often made muffins then, she had also worked at the bakery for a while before buying her own shop, and selling baked goods there, it was a big success and she often day-dreamed of
Her little shop in the mountains.
It made her miss the scarf's and boots that everyone constantly wore there, not for pleasure though,
but because it was even colder there, and you scattered at the first sign of rain, not because of the actually rain but
Because when it rained
The temperature automatically dropped a few degrees, the rain however were just little miniscule things, and didn't bother you at all.
She pitter-pattered on the rough stone-path, winding and twisting around the trees
The bright light up ahead that would later be the sun became bigger as she walked, so, gathering her thoughts, she said one last goodbye to all her pretty looking friends-which largely consisted of birds oddly colored worms, frogs butterflies snakes and monkeys- and ducked through the palm tree's, slightly blocking the exit.
It took a moment before her eyes adjusted to the sun.
Now all she needed was a hotel,
the hotel of paradise, to be exact, although, she had a sneaking suspicion, that the manager would not be too happy to see her....
I suppose I'll just have to improvise, she thought merrily, as she threw her muffin wrapper in the bin, and started towards her car.
Competition: June 2015 Pen Factor, Round 1
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