Jan 16

The Great Fissure: Falling Through the Cracks

Category: Aribella Lafleur, Places to Visit, Sims Worth Exploring by Stone Culdesac

The Great Fissure: Falling Through the Cracks by Aribella Lafleur

We struggled against the inescapable tug of a howling wind as it grasped the barren terrain with scouring fingers, forcing sand into every crevasse. Stumbling upon some kind of shelter, we piled in and huddled together like a colony of bats, my luggage long-forsaken in our blind wandering.

As the wind died down, I gritted my teeth - and then choked as my lungs tried to expel an entire sandcastle. I calmly explained to my underlings that I had requested DESSERT (the chocolatey kind with lashings of cream and a cherry on top), not DESERT (with lashings of fine grit causing abrasions which would have removed years of wrinkles, had I any to begin with). I discreetly shook sand from my underwear and took stock of our surroundings.

Our refuge was a crudely constructed hut, with rotting animal skins stitched together and bound to the bleached bones of some (hopefully) long-extinct class of gargantuan beast. The scene outside the tent was equally unpleasant; my designer suitcases were nowhere to be found, and the rugged, empty landscape did not look like it would support a 7-Eleven or handy toothbrush-and-soap-selling drugstore.


With ever-increasing necessity to find decent amenities, I boldly strode across a very dubious looking bridge, towards the nearest habitation. My overconfidence nearly precipitated an abrupt and very messy demise as the rotten planks gave way beneath my feet. I prudently decided to test safety with more expendable lives than my own in the future.

Bridge 2

With deluded intentions, my underlings bounded off towards a potentially salvageable space craft, doubtlessly discarded after it crash-landed in such an isolated location. When their vehicle procurement skills proved no match for the broken and neglected vessel, they quickly abandoned their mission, turning their attention to roasting an unidentifiable rodent over a hastily-built fire in a toxic waste drum. My innate sense of self preservation led me to decline the proffered portion of their meal and move further afield, upwind of the appalling odour.



We trudged onward across the scorching sand, encountering only crumbling ruins and rusting metallic towers, with no other living organisms anywhere in sight. This came as no surprise, since any sensible creature would have packed up and fled, and even the most unintelligent animal would have taken shelter from the blistering sun (which I deemed a wise plan in the absence of sunscreen and a parasol to protect my complexion)…


Driven by the emptiness in my stomach, I plodded along, for once regretting my choice of footwear as grit worked its way into my ruined designer heels, chafing and blistering my manicured feet. In my weakened state, I raced greedily towards a turkey, baking on the rocks ahead, only to find the partially carved bird was in reality a repulsive reptile skeleton, curing to a leathery carcass in the sweltering afternoon sun.


A sudden delusional craving for a Vegemite sandwich forced me to take shelter from the heat in a deserted tin shack, which turned out to be a recently evacuated research facility. The air was thick with pungent perfume emanating from murky potions still bubbling furiously over a naked flame…..


Peering out through the window, there was no sign of either scientist or explorer in the vicinity. I contemplated the possible whereabouts of the lab’s recent occupants and whether the tent-bones we had seen earlier belonged to a creature not-so-extinct after all.


Behind the vacant laboratory was an old truck, partially buried. Its original paintwork had been obliterated by frequent sand-blasting and replaced with a patina of rust. I was unconvinced that my light-fingered minions would have the ability to bring this battered ute back from the dead. Eventually, even my talented crew surrendered and ditched the useless rust-bucket.


Scrambling over a bleak, sandy slope, we discovered a squadron of uncomfortably phallic dirigibles, tethered amongst the wreckage of a small settlement. Tired, dirty and grumpy from lack of dessert, I climbed thankfully into the closest airship, and we set off for home, or would have, had someone remembered to untie the mooring rope….



Copy and images (c) 2008, Aribella Lafleur. All Rights Reserved.
Produced with the editorial assistance of Must Packbiers.

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4 Comments so far

  1. jays munro January 16th, 2008 3:18 pm

    LOL! YET another fine mess you got me into Ari!!!!!

  2. Aribella Lafleur January 16th, 2008 8:12 pm

    ME, Mr. Munro??? May I remind you that YOU gave me the landmark!…For the record, I STILL haven’t had that dessert. Oh, and where is my luggage? Hmmm????

    LOL! Thank you to everyone who looks at my stories. I hope you enjoy reading about our silly adventures as much as I enjoy writing them. Please go and explore for yourselves… there are 4 connected wasteland sims which change regularly. Happy hunting!

  3. Stone Culdesac January 16th, 2008 9:13 pm

    Damn, nobody had a knife? :)

  4. Must Packbiers January 16th, 2008 9:18 pm

    No knives…I DID try hunting with a spoon, but no joy (you’d think I would have learned my lesson at Tzopelic Chantli!!)

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