they will call you sci-fi
Studying atlases for hours, trying to decipher the shadings and colors to find underwater mountains and oceanic patterns. Memorizing tradewinds, active volcanoes and colder temperatures. Index finger traveling from specific latitudes to the map key. Using a brass ruler to calculate the scale so he could find the distance, in kilometers, from his house to some torrential middle of nowhere. His palms would always end up smelling like ink and wet pennies, and the dots behind his eyes always took on the distinct form of Africa, or the mass of Europe, until he neared sleep and it congealed into Pangea.
He dreamt of continental drifts and land bridges.
Short indigenous people with animal skin packs and strong calf muscles. Walking to escape the cold. People with darkened brows and thick toenails, whose babies knew the sound of earthquakes in their restless sleep.
Frostbite, hemmhoraging from childbirth, intestinal parasites, diarreha that melted the frost and then refroze.
He dreamed of the Atlanteans, an aquatic race with a natural affinity for incest. Webbed toes were a typical defect in their otherwise beautiful offspring. Webbed toes, slim skeletons, and alarmingly close set eyes.
The entire city would share a deep collective silence while they watched the thunderstorms that moved brutally, and often, over their early floating metropolis.
Standing along walkways, barely squinting against the squall. Only watching, watching until it passed. Maybe hours later after they were all soaked and wind chapped and the air calmed and dried the salt onto their faces.
He dreamt of continental drifts and land bridges.
Short indigenous people with animal skin packs and strong calf muscles. Walking to escape the cold. People with darkened brows and thick toenails, whose babies knew the sound of earthquakes in their restless sleep.
Frostbite, hemmhoraging from childbirth, intestinal parasites, diarreha that melted the frost and then refroze.
He dreamed of the Atlanteans, an aquatic race with a natural affinity for incest. Webbed toes were a typical defect in their otherwise beautiful offspring. Webbed toes, slim skeletons, and alarmingly close set eyes.
The entire city would share a deep collective silence while they watched the thunderstorms that moved brutally, and often, over their early floating metropolis.
Standing along walkways, barely squinting against the squall. Only watching, watching until it passed. Maybe hours later after they were all soaked and wind chapped and the air calmed and dried the salt onto their faces.