Friday, 2 August 2013


I dreamt about the spores. I saw myself in my tent, sleeping fitfully. I floated up and away, through the tent to a point above the camp. The fungi were undisturbed, and everyone else slept peacefully, despite the lightning striking down into the sea that surrounded them. A dark shape emerged from the sea and scuttled toward the camp. I couldn't make out what the shape was; my eyes wouldn't focus on it. The shape approached the fungi, and I thought it moved warily. It slinked onward, until it was in the centre of the field.

The fungi surrounding the shape burst, showering it with purple spores. The shape retreated, fleeing into the sea. The storm cleared. The cloud of spores drifted toward the sleeping researchers, and I tried to scream at them to wake up, but I couldn't make a sound.

The other researchers have begun the long trek back to the facility. Five of us remain to finish this expedition. We're going to follow the furrow to the end.

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