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CastawayThis picture shows an otherworldly tableau. In the sky are two moons, one small and grey,
nearly black, the other large and blue, taking up almost a third of the available sky.
The ground is sere and rocky, with mountains to the right and a single blasted tree, leafless and
stunted, the straggling arms seeming to try to reach out for the sky despite insurmountable odds.
At the base of a hill to the left is some kind of spaceship, now torn in two, with bits of
melted metal and shattered shards of less-definable materials scattered around the seared and blasted
hull. The twisted scar of its landing, trailing along and off into the distance, has softened and
weathered, showing the passage of some time since the crash, and nearly masks a single cross
poking forlornly out of the earth by the downed ship.
In the foreground, sitting on a large, flat rock, is a female figure. Her silver spacesuit, cut to
fit her figure, is worn thin as tissue in many places and ragged in others, where patches
VanderdeckerDepicted here is the storm-shrouded deck of a seventeenth-century sailing ship. The sails are
full, though battered by the winds and rain, and the brass nameplate of the ship is concealed by the
A pale reddish light washes the streaming decks of the ship, and the sailors move here and
there, strangely unaffected by the gale-force winds and sheeting rain. They batten hatches and trim
the lines, their pale bodies remarkably wasted and thin.
On the fo'c'sle stands the captain, feet planted wide apart for balance. He wears a black
Dutch felt hat, and his clothing is unrelieved black except for the length of red silk he wears tied
around his waist as a sash. The ends are worn and frayed, trailing off into ragged fringes that are
blown straight back by the wind. His black cloak billows and flutters about him like a living thing,
and his face bears a twisted, sardonic grin, as if he had just heard some particularly good joke.
The ship sails endlessly into the jaws of a storm, the
I DreamedLast night, I dreamed
of laughing blue eyes
in a kind face,
and of the love we shared.
As much as I wish to acknowledge it,
it must be hidden
to die in the cold
when we are alone once more.
Last night, I dreamed
of silky brown hair
warm with the fire's heat.
The fire we shared together.
As much as I wish to rebuild the fire,
the sparks are already dead.
We must be apart,
drawn by our separate destinies.
Last night, I dreamed
of a warm body
that shared my bedroll
under the cold sparkle of the stars.
As much as I wish to share it again,
it is put away for the daytime.
Last night is a memory
and memories are all I will have.
Last night I dreamed
of you, my secret love,
holding my body next to yours
as we loved through the night.
As much as I wish to hold you again,
you are gone,
leaving behind precious memories
that I wish I could forget.
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