February 13th, 2008

spring

Lite-Brite

Trying to work out some of the more cinematic moments of the novel today. Here's a rough chunk.

Skilto brushed wrinkles from the knees of his trousers as he stood. He squinted against the sunlight filling the reception room to illuminate the faces of the dolls. It was all so brilliant: the gleam of metal on the uniforms, the faceted glass panes splintering the light like prisms, the eight-sided spangles on the robes of the uppermost dolls, their patient servitors arrayed below them.

He gathered a palmful of bits of light, plucking them from the air, before leaning over Layla’s palm to scatter them there.

“What?” she breathed in wonder as the flecks of light circled her palm, sparkling upward, borne by the warmth of her skin.

He smiled. He had learned a few dazzlements – everyone at the College had a signature move and it was refreshing to swim in a circle that was not yet jaded by petty enchantments. The lights vanished as the moment trembled and was gone.