The ectovore entraps the spiritual enity in a honey comb of neutralized memories. Slowly it becomes trapped and unable to move at all. Then the ectovore feeds. It is not pretty, but nature's pagentry of life and struggle extends beyond the pretty light.
STRANGE SPANNERS being an accounting of strangeness of the warp and woof of my mind For those of you new here, think of this as 1/2 "Night Gallery" Our Motto: Nos somnium quisnam es futurus fatum quod insolitus tutus vos!
No comments:
Post a Comment