The thing appears dead, except for that face, which should be on no person, dead or alive. The blank face starts changing as the raindrops strike it and roll off. Something like features appear on it, as if the water washes away the blankness and gives it its humanity.
If it is a trap, it's not a very good one. Noema watches the form suspiciously. The thing is definitely not human. It looks as though it's trying paint a picture of a dream of a person it once saw, and gets it all wrong.
Noema reaches down and drags the form on to the boat. It falls in heavily, and lies there, limp. The boat sags and the water comes up to its edge. Still no indication of life.
She paddles furiously against the current. The river looks different, as it does every time she comes here, but she knows the way. The signposts and landmarks are tiny, and often she has to search intensely for them, but once she finds them, the river is navigable again.
The rain lets up by the time she reaches the overhanging rock. The river pools there, and she waits in its shadow for the thing to wake up. The features are a mess; there are now five eyes and no mouth. Even the body is flickering, shimmering, dissolving. Noema feels frightened, for it rather for herself.
When it wakes up, it opens its eyes and looks at her. She involuntarily backs away. After taking in her face, it changes again and looks almost normal. There is still something unnatural about it.
"Who are you?" she demands, her voice shaking just slightly.
It stares at her. Silence.
"You can't talk, can you?"
She senses something from it. They are not words, nor even thoughts, because thoughts can't truly be communicated. It's just a feeling. It expresses: greeting.
Noema smiles. "OK, so you can talk. Just not the way I do. You probably can't understand me, but you can learn to, I think. What are you?"
Where are you ffrom?
A
If it is a trap, it's not a very good one. Noema watches the form suspiciously. The thing is definitely not human. It looks as though it's trying paint a picture of a dream of a person it once saw, and gets it all wrong.
Noema reaches down and drags the form on to the boat. It falls in heavily, and lies there, limp. The boat sags and the water comes up to its edge. Still no indication of life.
She paddles furiously against the current. The river looks different, as it does every time she comes here, but she knows the way. The signposts and landmarks are tiny, and often she has to search intensely for them, but once she finds them, the river is navigable again.
The rain lets up by the time she reaches the overhanging rock. The river pools there, and she waits in its shadow for the thing to wake up. The features are a mess; there are now five eyes and no mouth. Even the body is flickering, shimmering, dissolving. Noema feels frightened, for it rather for herself.
When it wakes up, it opens its eyes and looks at her. She involuntarily backs away. After taking in her face, it changes again and looks almost normal. There is still something unnatural about it.
"Who are you?" she demands, her voice shaking just slightly.
It stares at her. Silence.
"You can't talk, can you?"
She senses something from it. They are not words, nor even thoughts, because thoughts can't truly be communicated. It's just a feeling. It expresses: greeting.
Noema smiles. "OK, so you can talk. Just not the way I do. You probably can't understand me, but you can learn to, I think. What are you?"
Where are you ffrom?
A
