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| Beneath the haze
of induced slumber, she could sense the transformation taking place. She
felt the very fibers of her being mutate, even though her rational mind
could not assign words to what was happening to her.
Flashes of memory - her loving husband, their beautiful little girl, smiles and hugs and laughter - meshed with visions of serpentine architecture, reptilian slithering, an almost predatory movement of advances and pauses. Her mind ached as the images blurred together into a nonsensical collage.
Slowly, the haze lifted. It was as if the transformation itself was pulling her mind up to the surface of some murky lake, forcing that first desperate gasp of air. She remembered where she was. She remembered who she was. And she grasped, at some level, what was happening to her. She opened her eyes. |