(no subject)

[crazedingly]

[Walk into Delirium's 'house'. A hundred sleepless nights breeze past your face. The smell of hospital disinfectant and despairing dementia swirls in shades of blue and green in the maelstrom of colours. You might see a sundial that doesn't work, or a pool of live butterflies, or a stack of a thousand fevered hallucinations. You might even, if you're luckier than Del has been for the last few decades, run into a row of picture frames (a book, an ankh, a helmet, a hooked ring, a glass heart, an empty frame). And yes, this all fits in a single column of swirling mist, which is how it looks from the outside. Physics and space are not so much mutable as non-existent here.]

It'smyrealm but my doggie isn't here. Perhaps I sank into the colours again. I'm going to find the...the...the thingy. Sundial. My sundial. It stopped working but now it works.