As I wake a heavy frost encircles my home. My family huddles against the cold. Wrapped against the coming dread, I begin my labor.
In the morning we gathered about our home. The winds shift and we are assailed with worry. My family looks toward the figure that brought us to this place. His face is hard as he nods, a sign for us to attend our labor.
Our new quiet existence as been stained. I woke to find a pestilence creeping into the wood around out home. My family is stoic in the face of it, as are those others that abide here. Approaching my labor will, I hope, give context to these new happenings.
I woke and took a first step, like so many before it felt new, from our structure. Soon the family joined me, as they always do, to breath in fresh free air. My labor has changed, it is my own, and I do it unhindered.
Deep cracks grew as I and the others took our rest. I woke in the morning to find the portal to our home unit torn asunder. Beyond it, I and the others beheld the dancers swaying once more, and the figure with one hand raised, palm out, beckoned our approach. Hand in hand with the … Continue reading Status Update: Sixty Six
Although faded the murmuring truth continued unabated through the night. My home unit trembles as cracks begin to form around its front portal. The others can only stair in awe and these events. To continue with my labor now, now that all this is revealed, seems… futile… and a lie. The figures hand as dropped, … Continue reading Status Update: Sixy
Something is happening. Just beyond the walls of my home unit, visible now from my windows, something… no no, someone is happening. The dancers, who until now have swayed to unheard music, encircle this figure as a single finger from its hand points toward me. The silence that enclosed seems broken and we, I and … Continue reading Status Update: Fifty Nine
Silence slowly creeps into the wall of my home unit. So intense is it that the others are fearful that their breath may waken some unsee force. I too go forward gently as I begin my labor.
Moans turn to whimpers in the pre-light hours. All marvel at the pre-light, that thing so unknown to us. I can feel the last heavy weights of un-truth lifting away. Where will this bring us? Within my labor I hope answers reside.
Even as tendrils un-light begin to wither, I feel a desperate moan issue from my home unit. The others feel this too as it seems to pain at these changes. I must discover the meaning of this with my labor.