Sunday, 20 February 2011


Green skin beats healthily beneath white/fire lamps. Pipes of dull/iron coil heavily beneath each holy cot, supporting them, supplying them. Tube/feeds snake inside, penetrating tough skin, pumping life.

The high/people sleep.

The care/keepers tend.

When the high/people made the sight/within device they discovered what they created in their mind/dreams each night, and what they destroyed each morning.

The high/people/nation each split the fundament as they fell asleep, and brought about apocalypse as they woke.

Galaxies and other/peoples lost, forgotten, forever.

The high/people had never known such despair, such helpless/guilt. So they built the care/keepers, and the hope/sanctuaries that house mile beyond mile of holy cots, and they slept, never to wake again.

Sometimes, tragically, they die.

And worlds die with them.

Recommended Reading: Soul Marbles by Aaron Polson on Every Day Fiction.


  1. I like this a lot! Whole idea of these dream gods taking out worlds is an awesome concept. Nicely written, too.

  2. Thank you, Maria. =)

    Thanks for the RT too. =)

  3. Enjoyed the effect of the /-words to give this an alien feel.

    Tragic/loss if I spawn dream/death every morning; can other/people live on in stories? Reincarnated/rebirth into minds?

  4. I think that would be more like history/mourning. A record/tribute rather than a reincarnation/rebirth.

    Thanks, Aidan. =)