“Her hands were twisting streams of soldier ants and soldier men, destroying but also dissolving, then re-forming as fingers to grab, fists to pound, her body stretching from horizon to horizon, flattening everything in her path, approaching a city, yes, approaching it and raising a mighty tidal wave of a hand to sweep it all away– But hesitating now, holding herself back from the final destruction– And learning in an instant the fatality of this hesitation, because already she is dissipating, a...lready she is falling to pieces, atom by painful atom– She woke, not with a start, but with a simple opening of her eyes (never knowing this was an exact mirror of how her father woke from nightmares). She reached across the bed to place a hand on the bare skin of Henri’s back, an action that always re-anchored her after a troubling dream, bringing her back to earth, settling her again for sleep. But Henri wasn’t there, of course. Not for years. She breathed out slowly across night-dried lips and tried not to let wakefulness take hold.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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