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Show 204 and leaned her whole weight again, one hand on top of the other. This time the pain was a rich magenta, and the needles careened wildly over old pathways and into new ones, travelling up both edges of his back to his armpits and down his triceps to his elbows. He moaned at the next point down, while frantic spots of red whirled agaist a background of white that an instant later was really black masquerading as white. He suspected that primal memories lay stored in the spinal column and got released when the receptors were violated. What he was seeing were ancient and terrible battles that he had seen before when he was a wisp floating in the night-world of the pre-existence, with chaos emerging in spasms from principle, light from nothing, the beginning from what had preceded the beginning. He watched as luminous corpuscles shot through dark oceans and were snatched at by luminous cilia. Space unfolded like a cabbage and became time, which curled at the edges and darkened along the veins and became necrosis. She was still talking to him as she worked, but when your body had been transformed into an instrument picking up signals from a distant past where language had no meaning it couldn't process discursive information as well. He would have it in a minute; it was something about how they respected each other's Indian village; he would fine-tune it when she was through. She had worked her way to the end of his thoracic vertebrae and started on the lumbar, and the small of his back bristled with vitamins. It embarrassed him to hear the sounds he was making. He could hear her laughing gently as she talked, and he wished she would be quiet so he could concentrate on feeling his synapses unhook while sleep crept toward him like a blanket of foam. He held his breath as she moved lower from his second to his third lumbar vertebra. He was surprised at the primal memories that lay coiled between the second and third lumbar vertebrae. Something with silver eyes flashed past in a garden. A |