What an adventure. Glad to have managed to savor this tale (several of them actually in this massive story) as slowly as I could let myself.
(4/11 EDIT: cut for weird dreams, spoilers and quotes)
How did they know when the time had come? To disorganize their molecules?Oh Atwood. I lol'd irl.
First, by the soft wrinkles their velvety skin would develop when overripe. Second, by the flies.
The fruit flies that would hover in clouds around their headdresses of red netting.
This is your idea of a happy story?
I sometimes felt as if these marks on my body were a kind of code, which blossomed, then faded, like invisible ink held to a candle. But if they were a code, who held the key to it?And then you have things like this, and it kills me. Damn it woman, why so gorgeous.
I was sand, I was snow - written on, rewritten, smoothed over.
Happiness is a garden walled with glass; there's no way in or out. In Paradise, there are no stories, because there are no journeys. It's loss and regret and misery and yearning that drive the story forward, along its twisted road.Hot damn, that was some ride. Thank you, Ms Atwood. Amen.
Life update: Sunday I woke from an odd dream -- I was vacationing on THE MOON, you guys. It was just like Baguio, with an SM and a lot of vacationers, and there were mountains reminiscent of Sagada, and the roads were rough, etc. I was taking a shot of the sky, complete with the Earth on it, blue and green in the distance, etc., when the alarm went off. (On a Sunday. Who the hell sets an alarm on a Sunday? E sino ba kasi ang hindi alam i-off yung alarm ng wristwatch nya LOL. Figured it out eventually heh.) I remember remarking, Ano ba, everybody's here. Also with me in my dream -- a few high school classmates, an editor, a couple of acquaintances. YES ON THE MOON. May something sa tubig dito haha. The end.