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YET THE VIRAL IMPLICATIONS
of such a newcomer to our biosphere were not considered; the remnants of the AUM cult never anticipated the nearly instantaneous reactionthe effects of which...
of such a newcomer to our biosphere were not considered; the remnants of the AUM cult never anticipated the nearly instantaneous reactionthe effects of which...
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caused a rapid shuddering to course through the assembled multitudes? the temperature of the room rose like sap in the spring as fever-roses bloomed in their cheeks. and then...their eyes! their eyes!
Astral Poetry
"Eros! Your hand...!"
their eyes were melted into molten hot eye lava, as the foreign creature began it's delivery of the package UPS had given it...
so MANY eyes. while the onset of a choking, clotting sickness overtook the assembled conscripts (many under the effect of thiopental sodium), found more eyes than they were born with upon their recovery, which, all told, took upwards of 18 hours.
eyes on their hands. their scalps. in their noses. covering their backs. all of these eyes, hundreds, all closed.
the beast, still present, idling in the brackish water and staring upward. it snorted once, as they awoke, and
eyes on their hands. their scalps. in their noses. covering their backs. all of these eyes, hundreds, all closed.
the beast, still present, idling in the brackish water and staring upward. it snorted once, as they awoke, and
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gazed at the yawning, stretching horde of Arguses laying round it. it grinned as it observed a young man rub his eyes with his fists...then rub his eyes with his fists...then rub his eyes with his fists...and slowly begin to look around, wondering why he still felt that itchy feeling...all over his body...
a woman in the corner, middle-aged, nearly as wide as she was tall (betraying traces of mongol) wept as she retched from the sickness. her simple white smock already stained yellow, not from fear... from ocular discharge; a later auction saw the cloth fetch an exorbitant amount, during those days when currency was worth more than fuel for warmth.
the woman wept, the beast expelled impossible gouts of seaweed from its modest jaws. and... was this vegetation... moving on its own?
the woman wept, the beast expelled impossible gouts of seaweed from its modest jaws. and... was this vegetation... moving on its own?
Draft Dodging Scarecrow
Year of Mao Zedong
No, it was not moving on it's own. Lord Voldemort had cursed this poor creature to spit seaweed FOR ALL ETERNITY!
The settlers took pitty on this poor creature and took up their bacon and egg sandwhiches to meet Lord Voldemort in a glorious battle!
The settlers took pitty on this poor creature and took up their bacon and egg sandwhiches to meet Lord Voldemort in a glorious battle!
"itch-san," his mind raced, "might that puddle cure you?"
the flow of her tears, not a trickle but a gush... beckoned...
the flow of her tears, not a trickle but a gush... beckoned...
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the kraken paralarva jetted slowly across the lagoon, swelling and pumping its flesh full of new blood like a recently-emerged butterfly. before its hidous form, the human biomass shrank, trying to shield their eyes with their hands...but failing most profoundly.
the arabs ascertained, it is said, three seconds of horror in the presence of such an entity. and then, the mind snaps, a tangible fissure point where logic and reason divide. just like that.
this calculation pertained to a pair of inputs.
this calculation pertained to a pair of inputs.
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a small boy scrambled across the rocky landscape, under the kees of wheeling seagulls and the crash of shuffling waves. it had been hours since the furtive-looking group of townspeople had disappeared somewhere among these stones, and the boy was sure that he had recognized some of them--the mayor, for one!
he heaved himself over the crest of a barnacled piece of granite and found himself staring at the mouth of...a cave!
oddly, an enormous snarl of seaweed grew from what seemed to be within the cave's maw, even though no seaweed grew on the rocks immediately round here. he thought he saw it ripple briefly, but then realised it must be the tide pulling on the shallow puddle in which the weed floated.
thankful he'd remembered his electric torch, he scrambled down the rock and began to wade through the slimy weed to see what was contained within...
he heaved himself over the crest of a barnacled piece of granite and found himself staring at the mouth of...a cave!
oddly, an enormous snarl of seaweed grew from what seemed to be within the cave's maw, even though no seaweed grew on the rocks immediately round here. he thought he saw it ripple briefly, but then realised it must be the tide pulling on the shallow puddle in which the weed floated.
thankful he'd remembered his electric torch, he scrambled down the rock and began to wade through the slimy weed to see what was contained within...
Draft Dodging Scarecrow
Year of Mao Zedong
After drudging on for what seemed like hours, he found a ladder leading to hatch. Seeing this he immediately flashed back to a point three hours before this mysterious creature had come. He went into an alley way to fetch a ball and when he turned around he was face to face with the local gypsy.
She prophesied to him that day of a ladder leading up to something that what looded like a mouth of a giant creature. But what was beyond this mouth was a mystery even to the wise old gypsy.
As he began to climb, slowly climb, up the ladder sweat dropped into his eye. Colour turned to black and white, and his hands started growing exponentially...
She prophesied to him that day of a ladder leading up to something that what looded like a mouth of a giant creature. But what was beyond this mouth was a mystery even to the wise old gypsy.
As he began to climb, slowly climb, up the ladder sweat dropped into his eye. Colour turned to black and white, and his hands started growing exponentially...
curiously, thousands of miles away, a young man (as young a zambian can get, before draft age) suffering from spina bifida scampered along a grassy path, bucket in mouth, as two khaki-clothed americans with pleated pants observed from higher ground.
"that little fella is a trail-blazer if i ever saw one," smirked Harmon Adams, a square-jawed contractor with a penchant for nervously ruffling his pockets for spare change. he turned to his partner and was about to suggest an alternate tactic he had been devising for getting his charges to mine more efficiently, when he noticed a strange object in the distance. due east. near the treeline. he pointed, and then there was a flash. a greenish flash. followed by a reddish flash. and a yellow flash. back to a green flash. his eyes hurt. and then
"that little fella is a trail-blazer if i ever saw one," smirked Harmon Adams, a square-jawed contractor with a penchant for nervously ruffling his pockets for spare change. he turned to his partner and was about to suggest an alternate tactic he had been devising for getting his charges to mine more efficiently, when he noticed a strange object in the distance. due east. near the treeline. he pointed, and then there was a flash. a greenish flash. followed by a reddish flash. and a yellow flash. back to a green flash. his eyes hurt. and then
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he was staring at a face. a square-jawed, moustachioed face that look suspiciously...familiar. its eyes were squeezed shut in pain, and as he watched, the eyes hinged open.
and he was staring at his hand--a hand with a glabrous eyeball set in the center of the palm. yet he was also staring at his face. and at the woods to his left. and at what looked like the inside of a khaki sack...
and he was staring at his hand--a hand with a glabrous eyeball set in the center of the palm. yet he was also staring at his face. and at the woods to his left. and at what looked like the inside of a khaki sack...
Astral Poetry
"Eros! Your hand...!"
the khaki was made from the bladder of a buffalo from the plains of rhode island. he moved his moustache up and down, almost as to signify "yes, this is what I have been longing for...this is freedom."
the freedom he had longed for had always belonged to...
the freedom he had longed for had always belonged to...
... a land without poetry, a nation that didn't yearn for pipe dreams found in the stars.
no, his freedom was found in a land of tenacity and committed work. a nation peopled by millions willing to dirty their hands in the pit, skilled or unskilled, a republic willing to compromise bits of their freedom for a common causethe freedom to work harder. Harmon wanted so much goddamn freedom. what was his father's saying? "George had an axe!", he recalled between blinks. "our forefathers didn't sit back and watch the world happen. they cut it down to size!"
his father had calloused hands. his grandather had calloused hands. his mother had bruises all over. now... now a gout of acid began to rise up the back of Harmon's throat. "How," his mind raced, a wash of reflux spreading across his innards, "am I ever to hold a riding crop again?"
he belched; almost retched. his broad frame quivered as he choked back yellowish-green bile. it stung.
"how... how did i know what color that was?"
that thought was cut short as a greater horror took hold. despite the blinking and the gurgling sounds coming out of the man he'd known for years standing beside him, the array of eyes began to focus on the workers in the field below.
roughly half seemed to be sitting down, mostly cross-legged, casually examining their limbs and their newfound sight. some were singing.
the other half were... no longer there. in their place, what appeared to be... mounds of
no, his freedom was found in a land of tenacity and committed work. a nation peopled by millions willing to dirty their hands in the pit, skilled or unskilled, a republic willing to compromise bits of their freedom for a common causethe freedom to work harder. Harmon wanted so much goddamn freedom. what was his father's saying? "George had an axe!", he recalled between blinks. "our forefathers didn't sit back and watch the world happen. they cut it down to size!"
his father had calloused hands. his grandather had calloused hands. his mother had bruises all over. now... now a gout of acid began to rise up the back of Harmon's throat. "How," his mind raced, a wash of reflux spreading across his innards, "am I ever to hold a riding crop again?"
he belched; almost retched. his broad frame quivered as he choked back yellowish-green bile. it stung.
"how... how did i know what color that was?"
that thought was cut short as a greater horror took hold. despite the blinking and the gurgling sounds coming out of the man he'd known for years standing beside him, the array of eyes began to focus on the workers in the field below.
roughly half seemed to be sitting down, mostly cross-legged, casually examining their limbs and their newfound sight. some were singing.
the other half were... no longer there. in their place, what appeared to be... mounds of
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green, waxy plants, glistening in the sun, seeming to quiver slightly. Harmon looked more closely--how different the verb look felt now, the way the word son took on an entirely different and deeply moving sense when Harmon first gazed upon the face of his first child--and perceived that they appeared to be some sort of...kelp?
a peripatetic wind confirmed this by delivering the salty tang of the sea to his nose. Harmon gingerly began to pick his way down the hill into the field, to better investigate. he took extra care not to fall, so that he might not poke a dozen eyes on the stiff grass that covered the hill. around him, he could hear soft singing.
a peripatetic wind confirmed this by delivering the salty tang of the sea to his nose. Harmon gingerly began to pick his way down the hill into the field, to better investigate. he took extra care not to fall, so that he might not poke a dozen eyes on the stiff grass that covered the hill. around him, he could hear soft singing.
Draft Dodging Scarecrow
Year of Mao Zedong
But what was this angelous choir singing, he wondered. As his curiousity got the best of him, he saw, from on of the oversized eyes on his back, a walrus charging elephant herds. "What does this Walrus want," he said talking to himself. He thought back to the instant he first saw the UPS delivering creature slowly paddled it's way on to our virgin planet. Now the purpose of this Walrus had become apparent to Harmon. "This Walrus," speaking to himself again, "Is the mate of that strange creature."
But how did he know this nonsense? He remebered seeing into the spaceship of the odd creature and gazing his two eyes (two eyes, how sweet it was!) past the creature and setting sight upon a frame. What was in this frame, one might ask? The frame contained...
But how did he know this nonsense? He remebered seeing into the spaceship of the odd creature and gazing his two eyes (two eyes, how sweet it was!) past the creature and setting sight upon a frame. What was in this frame, one might ask? The frame contained...
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