Thoughts

content/draft/002.md

@@ -14,7 +14,7 @@ Tonight, she let him take her home. Tonight she let him pin her to the bed, paw
 
 And then it was a night for sitting on his balcony and talking while the waves of whatever drug he'd given her continued to roll through her in languid pulses. "It is like someone is brushing the underside of my skin with satin in the best possible way," she said, and he laughed.
 
-They sat and talked, legs dangling through the bars of the balcony's railing over an impossibly high drop, her ears filled with the chatter of an impossible myriad of monkeys some balconies over, startled from slumber by their arrival, her eyes filled with the black and gold of an impossible city built into a cylinder. He pointed to a building in the distance down the length of the cylinder, told her how that one was filled all with gardens, all flowers like those in her hair, now crushed lopsidedly from her forgetting to remove the crown when they fucked. He pointed up to the gentle glow in the sky, golden stars made of lights from so many buildings just like this one, told her that the sun here was in a long, thin line, that it turned on from one end to the other so that one could see dawn coming from down the tube, could hear birdsong come on like a wave, and then turned off in the same direction in a linear sunset. He pointed from one end of the cylinder to another, the bounding walls marked by arcane symbols in neon, and explained that nearly a quarter billion people called this home, then laughed as she asked, "How many do you think are fucking right now?"
+They sat and talked, legs dangling through the bars of the balcony's railing over an impossibly high drop, her ears filled with the chatter of an impossible myriad of monkeys some balconies over, startled from slumber by their arrival, her eyes filled with the black and gold of an impossible city built into a cylinder. He pointed to a building in the distance down the length of the cylinder, told her how that one was filled all with gardens, all flowers like those in her hair, now crushed lopsidedly from her forgetting to remove the crown when they fucked. He pointed up to the gentle glow in the sky, golden stars made of lights from so many buildings just like this one, told her that the sun here was in a long, thin line, that it turned on slowly from one end to the other so that one could see dawn coming from down the tube, could hear birdsong come on like a wave, and then turned off in the same direction in a linear sunset. He pointed from one end of the cylinder to another, the bounding walls marked by arcane symbols in neon, and explained that nearly a quarter  of a billion people called this home, then laughed as she asked, "How many do you think are fucking right now?"
 
 They added one more to that number before they slept.
 
@@ -38,7 +38,7 @@ Empty auditorium.
 
 Empty stage, but for one skunk, kneeling in the center with a clipboard and script laid out before her in a neat arc, a bank of three different colored highlighters resting in her lap.
 
-Where so many of the skunks of the clade had the stark contrast of black and white fur, hers was the warm brown of cinnamon with the pale cream of white chocolate. Where so many of the other skunks had black noses, black fur fading all but seamlessly before them, hers was far more pink, more easily seen twitching this way or that at some scent or another. Where so many of her family had long, poetic names, hers remained simple, a remnant of some more complicated past.
+Where so many of the skunks of the clade had the stark contrast of black and white fur, hers was the warm brown of cinnamon with the pale cream of white chocolate. Where so many of the other skunks had black noses, black fur fading seamlessly before them, hers was far more pink, more easily seen twitching this way or that at some scent or another. Where so many of her family had long, poetic names, hers remained simple, a remnant of some more complicated past.
 
 Motes traipsed down the long, shallow steps of the auditorium aisles, all but skipping in that long-running afterglow. "Sasha!"
 
@@ -80,11 +80,11 @@ She looked up once more, rolled her eyes. "Can you really picture May being into
 
 An eloquent shrug was the reply.
 
-"Well, *huh,*" she said, grinning still. She could feel the limerence for her form starting to fade, could feel the humanity begin to itch, so she waved the topic away. "But we can talk about that later. I need to re-skunk. I want to keep this shirt, though."
+"Well, *huh,*" she said, grinning still. She could feel the limerence for her form starting to fade, could feel the humanity begin to itch, so she waved the topic away. She had been seen, had been witnessed; that was all she had needed. "But we can talk about that later. I need to re-skunk. I want to keep this shirt, though."
 
 "Alright, dear. I shall look away."
 
-Motes shimmied out of the blouse and folded it neatly, setting it on the stage before forking into her usual, smaller, soft-furred self once more. Younger, as well, back to that comfortable, comforting expression of youth. "Okay," she said once she was done once more, rolling around to lay on her belly and poke her snout at one of the piles of paper. "What are you working on, anyway?"
+Motes shimmied out of the blouse and folded it neatly on the stage before forking into her usual, smaller, soft-furred self once more. Younger, as well, back to that comfortable, comforting expression of youth. "Okay," she said once she was done, rolling around to lay on her belly and poke her snout at one of the piles of paper. "What are you working on, anyway?"
 
 Sasha smiled, tipped her clipboard forward to let the skunk see the stage diagram. "Blocking. Planning. Memorization."
 
@@ -98,13 +98,13 @@ She was startled back to awareness by Sasha's voice. "What are you thinking abou
 
 "Mm?"
 
-"You seemed deep in thought." She smiled faintly. "Or perhaps blissfully without."
+"You seemed deep in thought." She smiled affectionately. "Or perhaps blissfully without."
 
-Motes stuck her tongue out at her. "I was thinking about how I was talking with Dry Grass yester– the day before yesterday, and how she was telling me about Hammered Silver being a b-word."
+Motes stuck her tongue out at her. "I was thinking about how I was talking with Dry Grass yester– the day before yesterday. She was telling me about Hammered Silver being a b-word."
 
-Unexpectedly, Sasha winced, carefully setting down her clipboard with exaggerated care. "Yes. I am sorry, And We Are The Motes In The Stage-Lights, it was never my intent to create such a schism in the clade."
+Unexpectedly, Sasha winced, carefully setting down her clipboard with exaggerated care. "Yes. I am sorry, And We Are The Motes In The Stage-Lights," she said, voice and movements stiff, contrite. "It was never my intent to create such a schism in the clade."
 
-Pushing herself to hands and knees and crawling around the piles of script, she knelt beside the other skunk, hugging around her shoulders. "It is okay. I do not blame you," she said hastily. "Dry Grass also said that that was just a...um, a last straw, not even the biggest thing."
+Pushing herself to hands and knees, she crawled around the piles of script to kneel beside the other skunk and hug around her shoulders. "It is okay. I do not think it is on you," she said hastily. "Dry Grass said that that was just a...um, a last straw, not even the biggest thing."
 
 "What did she say was?" Sasha asked quietly, shifting an arm around to hug Motes in turn.
 
@@ -120,7 +120,7 @@ After nearly a minute of silence, Sasha said, "Years back, centuries ago, Jonas
 
 Sasha snorted. "Do not let her hear you say that. She would say that she is not, that it is a partnership, it is two actors playing their parts: she, the mother; him, the father — dad jokes and all. They are roles in a long-running production." She winked conspiratorially, adding, "Though I am not sure that Waking World would agree with her. I think he very much thinks of himself as her husband, of the both of them as very much in love with each other."
 
-Motes furrowed her brow in consternation. "She does not make any sense," she said. "She hates Ma and Bee for dating and hates me for being their daughter and all the others my siblings or whatever, and then she marries Waking World?"
+Motes furrowed her brow in consternation. "She does not make any sense," she said. "She hates Ma and Bee for dating and hates me for being their daughter and all the others for being my siblings or whatever, and then she marries Waking World?"
 
 "Perhaps her performance is so convincing that she is fooling us all. Perhaps she is simply fooling herself."
 
@@ -164,7 +164,7 @@ She nodded, pressing her face all the firmer against the stage manager's belly.
 
 "Right, and those principles go beyond just the three of you. She was thinking of Dry Grass, too, yes? And of Waking World and of Fogs The View and of Time Makes Prey, and of all of the other, nicer folks she has spoken to in the sixth stanza on the sly. Many have continued to shun me, which is fine, so be it, they value their relationship with Hammered Silver more than Dry Grass does, but at least they are still talking with A Finger Pointing."
 
-"Yeah, that is true. And at least Dry Grass is still here."
+"Yeah, true. And at least Dry Grass is still here."
 
 "That she is." Sasha smiled, nudging Motes on the shoulder. "Now, come. Let us get you home, yes? Get you some food and let you crow about your exploits to anyone who will listen, yes? Show off your blouse, yes?"