come back from the station
Jan. 27th, 2008 04:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
foxtongueI woke suddenly this morning from dead monochrome dreams of smooth, terrifying men without fur. My children were still asleep, curled like rabbits in the hollows of my body, but I lay there awake, staring at the curved arch of my ceiling, trying to calm myself down. I'm supposed to be plugging into the collaborative network at night, but lately, I just haven't been feeling up to it. Since Elsei was born, the piped in psycho-sedatives just haven't been as fun.
Anyway, the merciless faces of these men were so strange that I wish I had better skill with a stylus, so I could show you. There was no emotional awareness at all, but they were devastating, utterly irresistible. Instead of soft black noses, they had fleshy beaks, like fish might if they've been stretched over a rack, and their eyes were odd, little wet globes pushed into their faces like marbles into clay. It was dazzling, how stark they looked, how blinding, as if they were a pivot from which something heavy could swing, industrial, heavy, and cold.
Anyway, the merciless faces of these men were so strange that I wish I had better skill with a stylus, so I could show you. There was no emotional awareness at all, but they were devastating, utterly irresistible. Instead of soft black noses, they had fleshy beaks, like fish might if they've been stretched over a rack, and their eyes were odd, little wet globes pushed into their faces like marbles into clay. It was dazzling, how stark they looked, how blinding, as if they were a pivot from which something heavy could swing, industrial, heavy, and cold.
