Fire quartz, tumbled tigers eye, tiny frog beetles, and a striking butterfly. All cloches come with glass.
•••
Last night, you dreamt of an unsettling orange landscape. No living being accompanied you as your feet moved in the direction of a 2-D horizon, kicking up chalky dust as you were drawn along by an invisible string. It was a dream of solitude, though not one of particular loneliness. Ahead of you, cutting through the foggy sienna aether, was a mass of charred stone. Each layer of sediment seemed to reveal another unknown, ancient presence. The ground in its vicinity stirred restlessly.
Feet, you realize as the crunching underneath your shoes grows thicker in sound and sensation. You are standing upon hundreds of insect legs, disconnected at various joints, snapping under your weight in a sickening manner. Not just any legs, but the ones of beetles, though much larger than any you’d ever seen before. You do not know what to make of it; and still, the earth calls you forward.
Obediently, your own feet answer, as though they have been snared by an underground magnetism. And it is then, with deadly determination in your step yet resistance in your heart, that you realize how this is meant to end.
Fire quartz, tumbled tigers eye, tiny frog beetles, and a striking butterfly. All cloches come with glass.
•••
Last night, you dreamt of an unsettling orange landscape. No living being accompanied you as your feet moved in the direction of a 2-D horizon, kicking up chalky dust as you were drawn along by an invisible string. It was a dream of solitude, though not one of particular loneliness. Ahead of you, cutting through the foggy sienna aether, was a mass of charred stone. Each layer of sediment seemed to reveal another unknown, ancient presence. The ground in its vicinity stirred restlessly.
Feet, you realize as the crunching underneath your shoes grows thicker in sound and sensation. You are standing upon hundreds of insect legs, disconnected at various joints, snapping under your weight in a sickening manner. Not just any legs, but the ones of beetles, though much larger than any you’d ever seen before. You do not know what to make of it; and still, the earth calls you forward.
Obediently, your own feet answer, as though they have been snared by an underground magnetism. And it is then, with deadly determination in your step yet resistance in your heart, that you realize how this is meant to end.
