Sunday, February 13, 2011


"Come, take my hand." The cold woman reached out, palm up. Her skin was pale as milk, and faintly luminescent. "Do you really want to suffer the indignities and infirmities of age? To watch your faculties wither and die like overripe fruit?"

"I know I will die, and I accept that," I said. "I would rather remain connected to the world than live forever apart."

The cold woman glanced up, her eyes flashing with irritation. "I wasn't talking to you."

I watched my own hand lift and grasp hers. I felt my treacherous face smile, and I could do nothing.


The Words Crafter said...

that has some scary implications....and yet, as I think on it, this happens all the time. wow!

Scattercat said...

I've been doing a lot of reading on embodied intelligence and so on. Fascinating stuff, neuroscience.