to run— but to where? It was all encompassing and great. If we’d known about this all humanity would gather here and tell stories and watch the sky like it’s a drug that keeps us living.
We found a damaged, rotted wood shed and decided to set up for the night near it, but as we got close George began to giggle. Cautious of him, I stopped advancing, my hand immediately sought the torch in my waist band, but he was smiling and laughing to himself and when I finally saw him and questioned what he was so happy about he jumped into the air. He got about 2 devrons up before gently gliding back down.
“Groovy!” George shouted gleefully as he landed.
“Be careful, Chad told me about the weird things that happen around here. Also, beware of water.” 40
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Chad said it will burn you worse than fire.”
“Fire—water? Opposites do attract.”
The place was completely unnatural. Water that burns you. Sky that doesn’t push you down; a sky that isn’t brown! It was a wrong place and the longer I suffered it the more I wanted to flee— but couldn’t. I don’t know why, I loved and always wanted what I saw there, but maybe it was too beautiful; my mind wanted to reject the idea of a place like that even being possible. It made my entire past hurt so much more.
Those stars, are they ours? No human could withstand them. If we could all see the night sky that I saw no work, or sleep, or religion would survive the encounter.
We decided the shed unsafe, so we trekked on for another hour to be sure and because we really didn’t know what we were doing.
We found a different place to camp for the night, all dirt spots on the ground, but it got dark and eventually we needed to sleep; I knew that dirt would be part of the process. I was trying to accept it, for Chad’s sake. The torch, single shot, was enough to light a fire from wood George had collected. The white—blue flare popped down the barrel in an all—out sprint for inevitably futile survival. The logs were wet, but the ember had little trouble igniting a bonfire that would warm us until morning.
“What’s with your hair?”
“What?”
“You need a haircut.”
“I cut it myself.” George seemed proud and beamed a smile at me.
“It looks like it,” I smirked.
Running his dirt caked finger tips through matted hair, George seemed self—conscious for the first time. “You don’t like it?”
“Maybe it could use a comb.”
“Where would I get one?”
“You don’t have a comb?”
“No. Are they expensive?”
“They are not.” I struggled not to laugh. “You can find one almost anywhere. We’ll look for one on the way back into the city.”
“Thanks!”
“You are kind. Just like Saraswati said you’d be. I’m glad we are friends now, because I was beginning to…”
I must have fallen asleep.
Not for any good reason, but it was a deep sleep that seemed to have taken longer than it did. I had the kind of dream you realize was a dream only after waking up. They weren’t cats; 41 dozens of quarter devron long creatures with two—tails and violet eyes, long hair of varied grays with deep purple streaks.
They’d dash around only in my peripherals while the giant fans that made up the six walls cut beams of outside artificial light and made maelstroms of loose fur. In unison they hummed mis—matching melodies 42 unfamiliar to me.
I stood in that single room like a weeping angel covering my face from the fur. After hours I picked up on their tunes and hummed along, like a password the little monsters jolted in place forming six rows of six in a semi—circle before me. In creepy fan chopped voices they, still in unison, spoke: “We are the keepers of your inner mind. You’ve never had a dream like this before. We know this because your mind has been our home ever since we finished learning magic from our uncles.”
“What are we doing here?” I asked them.
“Now is the winter of our
We found a damaged, rotted wood shed and decided to set up for the night near it, but as we got close George began to giggle. Cautious of him, I stopped advancing, my hand immediately sought the torch in my waist band, but he was smiling and laughing to himself and when I finally saw him and questioned what he was so happy about he jumped into the air. He got about 2 devrons up before gently gliding back down.
“Groovy!” George shouted gleefully as he landed.
“Be careful, Chad told me about the weird things that happen around here. Also, beware of water.” 40
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Chad said it will burn you worse than fire.”
“Fire—water? Opposites do attract.”
The place was completely unnatural. Water that burns you. Sky that doesn’t push you down; a sky that isn’t brown! It was a wrong place and the longer I suffered it the more I wanted to flee— but couldn’t. I don’t know why, I loved and always wanted what I saw there, but maybe it was too beautiful; my mind wanted to reject the idea of a place like that even being possible. It made my entire past hurt so much more.
Those stars, are they ours? No human could withstand them. If we could all see the night sky that I saw no work, or sleep, or religion would survive the encounter.
We decided the shed unsafe, so we trekked on for another hour to be sure and because we really didn’t know what we were doing.
We found a different place to camp for the night, all dirt spots on the ground, but it got dark and eventually we needed to sleep; I knew that dirt would be part of the process. I was trying to accept it, for Chad’s sake. The torch, single shot, was enough to light a fire from wood George had collected. The white—blue flare popped down the barrel in an all—out sprint for inevitably futile survival. The logs were wet, but the ember had little trouble igniting a bonfire that would warm us until morning.
“What’s with your hair?”
“What?”
“You need a haircut.”
“I cut it myself.” George seemed proud and beamed a smile at me.
“It looks like it,” I smirked.
Running his dirt caked finger tips through matted hair, George seemed self—conscious for the first time. “You don’t like it?”
“Maybe it could use a comb.”
“Where would I get one?”
“You don’t have a comb?”
“No. Are they expensive?”
“They are not.” I struggled not to laugh. “You can find one almost anywhere. We’ll look for one on the way back into the city.”
“Thanks!”
“You are kind. Just like Saraswati said you’d be. I’m glad we are friends now, because I was beginning to…”
I must have fallen asleep.
Not for any good reason, but it was a deep sleep that seemed to have taken longer than it did. I had the kind of dream you realize was a dream only after waking up. They weren’t cats; 41 dozens of quarter devron long creatures with two—tails and violet eyes, long hair of varied grays with deep purple streaks.
They’d dash around only in my peripherals while the giant fans that made up the six walls cut beams of outside artificial light and made maelstroms of loose fur. In unison they hummed mis—matching melodies 42 unfamiliar to me.
I stood in that single room like a weeping angel covering my face from the fur. After hours I picked up on their tunes and hummed along, like a password the little monsters jolted in place forming six rows of six in a semi—circle before me. In creepy fan chopped voices they, still in unison, spoke: “We are the keepers of your inner mind. You’ve never had a dream like this before. We know this because your mind has been our home ever since we finished learning magic from our uncles.”
“What are we doing here?” I asked them.
“Now is the winter of our
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