update from sparkleup

writing/fanfic/southern-reach.html

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                 <p><span class="tag">writing</span> <span class="tag">fanfic</span> <span class="tag">fiction</span> <span class="tag">short-story</span></p>
+<h2 id="the-biologist">The biologist</h2>
 <p>The day began with the botanist giving the physicist a hand in setting up countless contraptions around the rim of the clearing, describing an invisible net of arcane geometries held there five feet above the ground. She lugged the total station while he placed the equipment. He prattled on as he went, describing what he was doing, what tools he was using, what equipment she was carrying. She largely lost track after the word &lsquo;theodolite&rsquo;.</p>
 <p>Theodolite.</p>
 <p><em>Theo</em>-dolite?</p>
@@ -96,9 +97,18 @@
 <p>And she felt growth accelerate as, bound now to the earth, her bones became wood and her muscles loosened, unwound, and thus unbound began to lengthen, to strengthen, to arch skyward, seeking stars, seeking God.</p>
 <p>And when the physicist awoke, he was the first to notice the botanist was gone. </p>
 <p>And when the psychologist awoke, she was the first to notice the new tree, where ferns fingered the air and fronds like hands reached out to touch them.</p>
+<h2 id="the-physicist">The physicist</h2>
+<p>Breathe.</p>
+<p><em>Breathe.</em></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Come on.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Hands clutched soil.
+Grasped for purchase, for solidity.
+Anything to help keep him anchored to reality.
+<em>Pin me to perception - or perception to me,</em> he begged air gone thrawn.</p>
+<p>His cries, nonverbal, were nonetheless beat back by some unseen force, some will bent on countering his own with mindless determination.</p>
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-                <p>Page generated on 2020-05-29</p>
+                <p>Page generated on 2020-06-06</p>
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