Tag: Mxtl
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Dream Journal: 2017-04-13.01
If I hold still, maybe they won’t see me. I already knew that was a false hope, but until I could get my wits about me, I’ll take any hope I could get. All I cognitively knew was that I wasn’t in my room anymore, I wasn’t in my body anymore, I was surrounded by…
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Dream Journal: 2016-05-22.01
I knew I wasn’t in control of a damn thing when I opened my eyes to see myself leaning over me. Rattle in one hand and a bloody heart in the other. “[Mxtl.]” “Weaver.” “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”
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Dream Journal: 2015-12-25.01
The dream itself occurred yesterday, but the fullness of it did not strike me until today. It started off with me standing in a cave somewhere in what we now call “France” but somewhen far before what we call “now”. I am watching small hands draw out an image on the wall. Even with the…
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Dream Journal: 2014-07-21.01
Mxtl is not in the mood for games. Her rattling shook the lies and fears I had used to prop up my ego off of me in large unmendable pieces. Deprived of that exoskeleton that I am not surprised to learn I depend on far too much than I should, I fell to the hard…
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Dream Journal: 2013-07-14.01
Weaver goes exploring and is felled by something worse than a mere infection. Mxtl and Tliltic Ocelotl purge the source. Someone is going to get good eats. 1,964 words.
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A Sacrificed Heart
“Do you know where this is?” She gestures around her. “No.” I look around and see the ruins of something like Aztec pyramids. Some of the carvings I can sort out. Renditions of feathered snake skulls are everywhere. I see glyphs of priests in regalia and draped with various skins including human. I also see…
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Rattled
“The hell you think you’re going?” Wrong question, I thought. Where the hell do I think I am? I had just stood up from a perch on a prone log. A campfire burned in the middle of the night. Around it was the remnants of carved stone and large chunks of rough hewn wood. I…
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Dream Journal: 2012-12-05.02
“Why do I have to do this?” I stood surrounded by pots of smouldering… stuff. Each pot holding a different substance, the smoke from them wrapping around me. “Because. You do.” She was waving a fan of feathers around me, making sure the smoke from each pot wafted through the feathers of my fledged form,…
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Dream Journal: 2012-09-19.03
Headaches! Yay! (fuuuu) Too little sleep, too little eats, too few breaks, and one demanding & easily insulted person at the house meant Keri had a headache and needed a nap. So I kissed the kid, and patted the spirit, and waved “fuck all” to the world and laid down for a nap. “Where are…