Difference between revisions of "Compendium:Dream 82"
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One of the birds land on her head, crushing the eyes against her skull, spilling vitreous humour into her hair. I flinch away as another one comes for my own head. | One of the birds land on her head, crushing the eyes against her skull, spilling vitreous humour into her hair. I flinch away as another one comes for my own head. | ||
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Latest revision as of 21:25, 8 July 2020
The dream is of the moon. Or a moon, anyhow. Or something that would look like a moon at a distance - a crescent moon, to be exact. Some lady is sitting on it, dangling her feet over a black pond that is full of stars (unless they're not stars). She's dressed in a white fur. She speaks in a language I do not understand, or perhaps she's just making up nonsense words, since there's no language I don't know.
Black birds with eyes in their talons circle around us, making me aware that I'm actually present. I'm standing on the lake. I must be, since there's nothing else. I feel naked, with the stars watching me from below, and small, very small.
"I chose this," I tell the lady on the moon.
She looks at me with pink eyes and answers with her gibberish words.
Frustrated, I repeat myself: "I chose this!"
One of the birds land on her head, crushing the eyes against her skull, spilling vitreous humour into her hair. I flinch away as another one comes for my own head.
