(no subject)
I've been reading too much fantasy and science fiction lately. -slow headshake-
Had a flying dream that I was hovering above the border of the ocean falling into nothingness, much like the way demigods levitate and ponder the forces in the sea of amorphia within Brust's novels. I was completely alone, and not entirely human, and filled with something like regret at my situation and inhumanity. The sea rose in a thick mist from the side of the waterfall. Below and above lay only an indeterminate greyness, impossible to see either the sky or the nothing at the bottom of the waterfall that lay in either direction. I hovered there, looking at the falling water for a very long time, what seems like days or weeks. A troupe of humans arrived there, to pay tribute in the form of a pair of glasses, 3 lenses for my three eyes. They hesitated as I put them on, wondering if their gift would displease me. I did not care about the appropriateness of their gift though, only that someone had given me something and that I was no longer entirely alone. They set up a camp in a floating tent above the sea at the edge of the waterfall. The orange brightness of their tent lantern spilled out into the gray mist, a lighthouse in the night.
----
Later I gave up my wings, had them unpleasantly turned to dust by the appropriate ministrations on my forehead by a forceful leader for a group of children. I held back some unhappiness as the muscles in my back were altered or disappeared, while following the line of children into a structure. As we filed into a wide extremely cramped space, one tiny seat for each person, with a ceiling so low that one had to walk stooped (rather like a long warehouse crawl space with concrete floors), I wondered how I had come to be there, packed like sardines in a sea of ordinary children. Forced to share in their unknown and common fate. I thought about how I had arrived. And how I had come to be on this spaceship going I knew not where.
I had flown around previously myself, in the silent and empty city, my enormous white wings beating behind me. I spied a small band of kids, sent to look for something by their leader, and had offered to help. I quickly came to know these kids, and when I had laid down to rest, one of them came up to me and curled in a tiny ball by my side, wings and all. After that, after I had felt that warmth of close human contact, I felt that perhaps it was no longer necessary to be alone. I decided I would stay with these children and give up my wings to do so. One of them told me, that my wings would eventually grow back. Then he looked away and said that it might take a long while. We went all together to go and see their leader, unaware of whether he would be pleased or displeased.
..
.
.
Had a flying dream that I was hovering above the border of the ocean falling into nothingness, much like the way demigods levitate and ponder the forces in the sea of amorphia within Brust's novels. I was completely alone, and not entirely human, and filled with something like regret at my situation and inhumanity. The sea rose in a thick mist from the side of the waterfall. Below and above lay only an indeterminate greyness, impossible to see either the sky or the nothing at the bottom of the waterfall that lay in either direction. I hovered there, looking at the falling water for a very long time, what seems like days or weeks. A troupe of humans arrived there, to pay tribute in the form of a pair of glasses, 3 lenses for my three eyes. They hesitated as I put them on, wondering if their gift would displease me. I did not care about the appropriateness of their gift though, only that someone had given me something and that I was no longer entirely alone. They set up a camp in a floating tent above the sea at the edge of the waterfall. The orange brightness of their tent lantern spilled out into the gray mist, a lighthouse in the night.
----
Later I gave up my wings, had them unpleasantly turned to dust by the appropriate ministrations on my forehead by a forceful leader for a group of children. I held back some unhappiness as the muscles in my back were altered or disappeared, while following the line of children into a structure. As we filed into a wide extremely cramped space, one tiny seat for each person, with a ceiling so low that one had to walk stooped (rather like a long warehouse crawl space with concrete floors), I wondered how I had come to be there, packed like sardines in a sea of ordinary children. Forced to share in their unknown and common fate. I thought about how I had arrived. And how I had come to be on this spaceship going I knew not where.
I had flown around previously myself, in the silent and empty city, my enormous white wings beating behind me. I spied a small band of kids, sent to look for something by their leader, and had offered to help. I quickly came to know these kids, and when I had laid down to rest, one of them came up to me and curled in a tiny ball by my side, wings and all. After that, after I had felt that warmth of close human contact, I felt that perhaps it was no longer necessary to be alone. I decided I would stay with these children and give up my wings to do so. One of them told me, that my wings would eventually grow back. Then he looked away and said that it might take a long while. We went all together to go and see their leader, unaware of whether he would be pleased or displeased.
..
.
.