Iskandor watched me constantly; her eyes black pebbles in the dark of her face; catching my every movement like a cat.
But she was purposefully gentle; not soft in any way.
Her features, while human in essence, were slightly off the norm; not quite like anyone I’d ever seen. Despite this, she was human; human to the extent that I did not even question my assertion that she was a woman.
You have to ask yourself what the odds are of two species evolving separately to such a similar result? Granted, she had an extra finger on each hand but, in the infinite variety of options, that hardly constitutes variety.
Periodically she would talk to me, her brow creased by my inability to respond to what it was she was saying, the words clicked from her mouth and echoed in the creek, spent capsules of useless information - I imagined that her questions ran the gambit from “What are you?” to “Where the fuck did you come from?”
I’ll admit that the thought crossed my mind once or twice that I may appear to be some sort of god to her; perhaps some prophecy fulfilled – that could have been an interesting trip – unfortunately it appears that the truth was, as it often is, contrary to popular belief.
But she was purposefully gentle; not soft in any way.
Her features, while human in essence, were slightly off the norm; not quite like anyone I’d ever seen. Despite this, she was human; human to the extent that I did not even question my assertion that she was a woman.
You have to ask yourself what the odds are of two species evolving separately to such a similar result? Granted, she had an extra finger on each hand but, in the infinite variety of options, that hardly constitutes variety.
Periodically she would talk to me, her brow creased by my inability to respond to what it was she was saying, the words clicked from her mouth and echoed in the creek, spent capsules of useless information - I imagined that her questions ran the gambit from “What are you?” to “Where the fuck did you come from?”
I’ll admit that the thought crossed my mind once or twice that I may appear to be some sort of god to her; perhaps some prophecy fulfilled – that could have been an interesting trip – unfortunately it appears that the truth was, as it often is, contrary to popular belief.
From Decaying Orbits
7 comments:
A stranger can only see as much as his constrained vision allows him to see without descriptive knowledge.
Well written, Pisces.
You, sir, are contrary to popular belief, as is anyone thinking for themselves.
D2: You're right (subjectively) :D
Yodood: And you sir, are too kind.
Interesting slice. -J
nice shot of Spivak..... I like her work, dense as it often is, it's usually worth the work of reading and re-reading and re-reading.....
contrary to popular belief.... you never know what prophecy you might be fulfilling....
you never know the affect your words can have, or their reach.
kudos to a fine wordsmith :))
Harlequin: Yes, I have you to thank for the intro into the mindmaze of Spivak ;]
I am becoming rather intrigued by this Decaying Orbits.
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