The bones that drift endlessly as far as the eye can see

[sovay]

I have been having peculiar nightmares (the one about being in New York with giant ex-zombie animal carcasses rotting on all the buildings was memorably lurid. Because nothing says Waldorf-Astoria like a decapitated snake half the size of a city block draped across the roof) for the last several weeks solid. Last night I dreamed I was cast by a Japanese director in a retelling of a folktale about a drowned girl. I think it was some kind of subconscious-bastardized version of Urashima Taro; in the first scene, the man who was probably the other protagonist was to find me washed up on the beach, rolled over in nets of kelp and Hel-faced with white sand. The makeup was fantastic. Then I drowned for real halfway through the shoot and spent the rest of the dream as a corpse with a sharkskin crust of barnacles growing on my skin. You come through, brain.

Comments

[sovay]

Makes for good reading but probably not very restful sleeping.

On waking it produced a combination of WTF and aesthetic appreciation. If I could actually write all of the things my sleeping brain thinks are good stories, I'd probably have a career.

When I saw your subject line, I thought you'd be linking to the story of the gladiators' graveyard.

I'm afraid I didn't think of it, but I have seen the news! It's great.