Wednesday, January 16, 2013

the colour out of space (the rural tales are queer)

all the farm was shining with the hideous unknown blend of colour...

it had a very queer colour, and as all the men clustered round the window ammi gave a violent start. for this strange beam of ghastly miasma was to him of no unfamiliar hue. he had seen that coloour before, and feared to think what it might mean. he had seen it in the nasty brittle globule in the aërolite two summers ago, had seen it in the crazy vegetation of the springtime, and had thought had seen it for an instant that very morning against the small barred window of that terrible attic room where nameless things had happened. it had flashed there a second, and a clammy and hateful current of vapour had brushed past him - and then poor nahum had been taken by something of that colour... and now that well was belching forth to the night a pale insidious beam of the same daemoniac tint.

surely the very look of the dark realm is enough to stir a morbid fancy.

when twilight came i had vaguely wished some clouds would gather, for an odd timidity about the deep skyey voids above had crept into my soul.

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