I have a new bit of flash fiction up. I’ve called it Legio, or perhaps Legion. I’m still thinking a lot (never stopping, really), about systems and things playing together and building off one another. At some point the story of the demon Legion came to mind, a hive thing, a host mind. And here we are.
I also read Becky Chambers’ novella, To be taught, if fortunate. It was an unexpectedly lovely read, about our relationship to ourselves and our bodies, about leaving our loved ones behind, and colonialism and space travel.
I’m an observer, not a conqueror. I have no interest in changing other worlds to suit me. I choose the lighter touch: changing myself to suit them.
Becky Chambers, To be taught, if fortunate
Some bits I relate to strongly because of what transitioning was (and is) like:
A moth was a caterpillar, once, but it no longer is a caterpillar. It cannot break itself back down, cannot metamorphose in reverse. To try to eat leaves again would mean starvation. Crawling back into the husk would provide no shelter. It is a paradox — the impossibility of reclaiming that which lies behind, housed within a form comprised entirely of the repurposed pieces of that same past. We exist where we begin, yet to remain there is death.
Becky Chambers, To be taught, if fortunate
This was such a lovely read. Please read it, if you’re looking for something new.
Feature image by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash
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