I saw the news about the UK and the EU right before I went to bed. I am so sorry that Donald Trump has any reason to approve the results of the referendum.
I think my dreams last night were intended for either![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
skygiants or ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
strange_selkie: a ghost train constantly pulling through the walls of a subway station on a curve of track that was torn up years ago, two girls disembarking in shirtwaists and skirts, one of them carrying a valise and both of them talking twenty to the dozen. Their names were Leye and Malke and I am bad at ages even in my own dreams, but I think they were on the farther end of college-age, nineteen or twenty, though neither of them was in school. I would lose track of them each time as they walked up the stairs to street-level, then the train would come swinging in again. There were other passengers, but I could never see them as clearly and I couldn't hear them at all. The girls' voices sounded like they were composed of the clack and rattle and rush of the subway car—which did not look like an antique—jolting through the dark, but I had no problem with the Yiddish. Leye wanted to be a pilot. I knew she had been, too, though I couldn't have told you her last name. Maybe they were on their way to an air show. Maybe it was my brain saying something about immigrants.
There are some rather neat promo images now available for The Museum of All Things Awesome and That Go Boom, the anthology edited by Joanne Merriam which reprints my flash story "And Black Unfathomable Lakes" (Not One of Us #50) and is coming out in July. A couple of them could be icons if I were that kind of author. The story's about different kinds of monster.
I think my dreams last night were intended for either
skygiants or strange_selkie: a ghost train constantly pulling through the walls of a subway station on a curve of track that was torn up years ago, two girls disembarking in shirtwaists and skirts, one of them carrying a valise and both of them talking twenty to the dozen. Their names were Leye and Malke and I am bad at ages even in my own dreams, but I think they were on the farther end of college-age, nineteen or twenty, though neither of them was in school. I would lose track of them each time as they walked up the stairs to street-level, then the train would come swinging in again. There were other passengers, but I could never see them as clearly and I couldn't hear them at all. The girls' voices sounded like they were composed of the clack and rattle and rush of the subway car—which did not look like an antique—jolting through the dark, but I had no problem with the Yiddish. Leye wanted to be a pilot. I knew she had been, too, though I couldn't have told you her last name. Maybe they were on their way to an air show. Maybe it was my brain saying something about immigrants.There are some rather neat promo images now available for The Museum of All Things Awesome and That Go Boom, the anthology edited by Joanne Merriam which reprints my flash story "And Black Unfathomable Lakes" (Not One of Us #50) and is coming out in July. A couple of them could be icons if I were that kind of author. The story's about different kinds of monster.
