A semi-permeable membrane existing in a world without defining shape or form... much less reason, applying thought to media in sparing doses avoiding saturation, but encouraging mutation.
It began as a potential destination, dependent on that which was to come and if this possible action should compose itself at point X while factoring the dynamics constantly at play in this body cohabiting space in such a manner as to be water. It was the point where that within held struggle with that
For the first time in days the mist receded and as a full moon arose the scene became one of surreal beauty among a reality of sheer horror. It was J.G. Ballard’s Crystal World become true, only with far less sophistication given the contrast of crystalline facets of perfection versus the smooth encasement of hardened
At this proximity my initial thought was smooth, not as a flow of neurons, but as a texture. That of the near twin bodies hovering above me as my eyes took focus. Breast feathers a puff, perhaps disturbed or perhaps simple in expression of disdain for the strange vision, myself, sprawled upon the floor on
They held forth at a speed of being so far beyond our own that substance lost connectivity at a sub-atomic level. We were as dust in the aether, suspended, immobile yet permeable as such that we were naught to them as they were naught to we. The two states of being existed simultaneously anonymously atop