[DREAMSCAPE] pre-logging threads
Before you is a door built from polished gold and age-softened pearls. It opens as you are drawn towards it, and you are set down in a room lit only by starlight. There are no walls, just distant galaxies like paint splatters all around you.
As you move forward, a wall rises up in front of you. It stretches in either direction for infinity, and as the stars glisten brighter it becomes clear that it’s not a wall but a hedge, made entirely of smoked mirror glass.
It reflects your image back perfectly, but if you turn your head you will notice-just out of the corner of your eye-that your image warps and decays and becomes something crippled and broken.
There are sounds wafting over the top of the mirror-hedge, screams and laughter, the visceral scents of holidays and funerals. As you move up or down along the wall, everything changes but the scenery. The mirror is unyielding but you can taste your first piece of candy, feel the first banged knee, sense the last breath you'll ever take. You hear the first whisper of comfort and there's the echo of the first words that ever made you ashamed.
And there is someone watching you from behind that mirror. You know that as intimately as you know the inside of your own mouth.
As you move forward, a wall rises up in front of you. It stretches in either direction for infinity, and as the stars glisten brighter it becomes clear that it’s not a wall but a hedge, made entirely of smoked mirror glass.
It reflects your image back perfectly, but if you turn your head you will notice-just out of the corner of your eye-that your image warps and decays and becomes something crippled and broken.
There are sounds wafting over the top of the mirror-hedge, screams and laughter, the visceral scents of holidays and funerals. As you move up or down along the wall, everything changes but the scenery. The mirror is unyielding but you can taste your first piece of candy, feel the first banged knee, sense the last breath you'll ever take. You hear the first whisper of comfort and there's the echo of the first words that ever made you ashamed.
And there is someone watching you from behind that mirror. You know that as intimately as you know the inside of your own mouth.