A few more paragraphs...
“Then explain this” she answered, pulling down the collar of her shirt to expose a bruise darkening around the middle of her chest. “Explain how I managed to get a bruise here while sleeping in my bed?”
“Ok, I give.” Walt handed her a cup of coffee. “Half and half is in the fridge.” He paused for a few minutes, thinking.
“So ok, there's a creature of some sort that you've somehow stumbled upon in dream time. It wants the caverns to stay closed. So, I think the next step is to figure out what it is, and what caverns it means. Let's go with it being real, in as much as any of these things are real. We don't know why it wants the caverns to stay closed, so we don't actually know if doing as it wants is in our best interest or not. The only problem is, how do we figure all that out? I mean, I doubt there's a write-up in the library.”
“I don't know, Walt” Jenny said, sinking into a chair. “I just don't know. I do know one thing. I don't want to come across that thing again. Not without the equivalent of a bazooka to protect myself.” Her eyes cast around the area. Walt's place was bachelor pad simple. A small couch with sunken seats that looked like someone's castaway salvaged from the side of the road, a plush chair with a few old cigarette burns on the arm, off-white walls with his artwork hung on most of the open spaces, an easel and chair in the corner with art pads and canvas scattered everywhere. Her eyes landed on the canvas he'd been working on when she came in and she felt her blood begin to race.
“What is that?” she asked tightly.
“What? Oh, yeah that's why I forgot the coffee. I hung up and it was just like all of a sudden I couldn't stop painting. Not my usual stuff. I prefer the dragons and water wights. Stuff like that. Fantasy things you could imagine being out in daylight. Not this thing. It likes dark places. It's hard to paint things in the dark. Hard to capture their shape. Not a challenge I usually enjoy, but this was downright cathartic.”
Jenny stared at him as he wound down. “Walt” she whispered, “I think that's the thing I dreamed.”
***********
Putting this story together is hard. Seriously. I know the rough sketch of it, or I think I do, and then suddenly I realize it's not what I thought and have to rethink the whole thing. At least now that I've got the Libre going I can get to working on it again.
“Ok, I give.” Walt handed her a cup of coffee. “Half and half is in the fridge.” He paused for a few minutes, thinking.
“So ok, there's a creature of some sort that you've somehow stumbled upon in dream time. It wants the caverns to stay closed. So, I think the next step is to figure out what it is, and what caverns it means. Let's go with it being real, in as much as any of these things are real. We don't know why it wants the caverns to stay closed, so we don't actually know if doing as it wants is in our best interest or not. The only problem is, how do we figure all that out? I mean, I doubt there's a write-up in the library.”
“I don't know, Walt” Jenny said, sinking into a chair. “I just don't know. I do know one thing. I don't want to come across that thing again. Not without the equivalent of a bazooka to protect myself.” Her eyes cast around the area. Walt's place was bachelor pad simple. A small couch with sunken seats that looked like someone's castaway salvaged from the side of the road, a plush chair with a few old cigarette burns on the arm, off-white walls with his artwork hung on most of the open spaces, an easel and chair in the corner with art pads and canvas scattered everywhere. Her eyes landed on the canvas he'd been working on when she came in and she felt her blood begin to race.
“What is that?” she asked tightly.
“What? Oh, yeah that's why I forgot the coffee. I hung up and it was just like all of a sudden I couldn't stop painting. Not my usual stuff. I prefer the dragons and water wights. Stuff like that. Fantasy things you could imagine being out in daylight. Not this thing. It likes dark places. It's hard to paint things in the dark. Hard to capture their shape. Not a challenge I usually enjoy, but this was downright cathartic.”
Jenny stared at him as he wound down. “Walt” she whispered, “I think that's the thing I dreamed.”
***********
Putting this story together is hard. Seriously. I know the rough sketch of it, or I think I do, and then suddenly I realize it's not what I thought and have to rethink the whole thing. At least now that I've got the Libre going I can get to working on it again.