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tiamatschild) wrote2011-05-15 12:34 pm
tiamatschild) wrote2011-05-15 12:34 pm
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Had a nightmare last night about attending a public hanging. The man they were going to execute had done me a very great wrong, but I hadn't wanted him dead. Didn't want him dead. They were going to kill him because he'd hurt me, but I didn't want him dead, hadn't asked for his death, was trying to stall the executioners on some vague thought that maybe something would turn up, and he would be rescued, because I didn't want him dead, even though I hated him for hurting me.
All the prayers and pleas for the hanged man had to be read aloud before he was hanged, so I gathered them up and read them out as slowly as I could, elaborating where I thought I could get away with it to make them last longer. But then I dropped the feathers and scraps of last years leaves they were written on, the wind blew them beyond my reach, and the other women in the crowd picked them up and read them out, brisk and quick.
I was trying to think of some other tactic when I woke up.
All the prayers and pleas for the hanged man had to be read aloud before he was hanged, so I gathered them up and read them out as slowly as I could, elaborating where I thought I could get away with it to make them last longer. But then I dropped the feathers and scraps of last years leaves they were written on, the wind blew them beyond my reach, and the other women in the crowd picked them up and read them out, brisk and quick.
I was trying to think of some other tactic when I woke up.