A body, its fingertips sharpened as diamonds from the cold, lies upon a metal floor. Its mind, wandering through visions unknown in sleep, roams a landscape of hills made of different colors. One can sense the stature of the surreal entity it has encountered just by the flickering of its eyelids. There are likely old shoes on its feet; there is no other way to explain why it constantly leans over in anxiety while running so fast. Perhaps it has been running for days, and its shoes are so worn that they are ready to split at the seams, leaving their soles behind in the mud.
The clouds, carrying shadows of various sizes over the spectators and the body, finally release their rain-filled drops upon the earth. The body begins to slide slowly across the ground, leaving a dirty trail in its wake as it glides. While the spectators walk by laughing under their umbrellas, the body continues to get soaked, utterly vulnerable. It moves like a piece of stone seeking a shoreline; once it finds its place, it will continue to grow there, even as plants sprout and animals leave their tracks upon it.
When the rain stops, its arms and legs unfold on their own. It is startling that all of this failed to wake the body from its slumber, leading the spectators to weave chilling scenarios in their minds. Though a few consider using their umbrellas to nudge it awake, they are afraid to act. Before they can decide whether waking it is a good idea, they find themselves unable to predict how such a reckless and unfeeling body might react upon awakening. After watching a while longer for the body to find itself—to find the void that fits it—each of them walks away in a different direction.
February, 2026 by Demon Ego