For this week’s Six Sunday — more clockpunk Pied Piper! This particular snippet takes place sometime after this one. :)
In her dreams the boy became a bird.
Sometimes, she was no longer in the rat-place. Sometimes, it dropped unceremoniously away and she found herself once again able to see.
There was not much to see, it was true, but even uniform brightness and endless stretches of sky served as a welcome respite from constant dark, from the seas of tiny bodies and the cold dry stone of streets, and she was grateful.
And the boy, when he circled overhead, was beautiful, a fascinating being of the all-too-commonplace brown that still somehow shone.
He was so high it made her own head spin to contemplate, and she spun in dizzy circles beneath him so as to not let the feeling go.