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🕑 Added 2025-07-31 19:25:24 +0000 UTCIn the middle of the goings-on, Grady realized he could see his breath, panted out in big steam clouds. He felt something catch in the back of his mind like someone was hotwiring a car back there, and then it was all in front of him. Leng.
It reminded him of one of those paintings you'd see in an Italian restaurant, where one wall is painted to look like a rolling orchard in Tuscany. But here, the wooden slats of the barn interior became a cold expanse of blue plateaus that seemed to float footless in the void, like great temples--monuments to some unthinkable and now-deposed cosmic order. A trompay-lay-oil? What was it called, he thought dimly? A Tromp-l'oiel?
The Sevierville heat was broken by a gush of air so cold it made him gasp for breath, bracingly refreshing in the swelter of the barn. In the distance, he saw flying things that never flapped their wings, gliding on invisible drafts of gas like sleeping albatross.
This is where I'm from, it said, in the middle of everything. Grady totally understood.
"It's very beautiful..."
raised in shadows... you can't escape your fate!!
Comments
Kabbalist
Are these two from the lakeside eldritch orgy you showed us a while back? Edit: pondside, not lakeside.
Robbie
“Your wife could handle this better than you” ⭐️ 🌀😉
