Dream in which I'm outside on a knobby, grassy terrain. My brother has found an enormous moth, a world-record breaking moth from South America with a wingspan in excess of human head size, only its wings are quite tattered..."moth-eaten"...
I discover an old man who seems close to death. We bring him close to the building. He is African, very small with a gnarled grey beard and a socratically bald head. I try to speak to him, but he doesn't understand. I try in another language. No luck. When he realizes he can't communicate in his dying hour a tear builds up and runs down his crinkled cheek.
"Here are his things." Among them is a monochrome computer terminal that displays in brassy yellow. Here are his marks. A scant amount of personal data. There is one file in his home directory, what the hell is it? Someone cats the file and magically we are watching a video in ascii; the machine is slow enough that the fps is just right. Who was this man?
Posted by Alan at February 4, 2006 02:49 AM