the boy's dreams were magnifications or exaggerations of his waking life. in a sense, they were truer versions, because they were the potentialities of his waking life realized, in brilliant and horrific detail. in his dreams, the boy was surrounded by a forest of giants, with faces hidden in the distant sky. the boy was not noticed by those terrible giants, and he darted hither and thither in the shadows of their dangerous thundering strides to avoid being stepped on. the ambiguity of the dream lay in the fact that, at one and the same time, he felt in danger of being seen by the fierce and burning star-like eyes of the giants, and in danger of NOT being seen by them. to be seen would have reduced him to nothingness beneath a withering gaze, but to not have been seen would have also reduced him, like a far flung and forgotten planet in the distant cold blackness of oblivion.

his brother was one among the many giants, perhaps the largest of them all. from a distance, he could see him (for it was only from a distance that his eyes could encompass his terrible height). he could see him look the other giants in the eye. he could see his brother converse with the other giants as equals, with a blithe and casual air that the boy found disconcerting. in shadows he gathered around himself, the younger, smaller boy pretended he were like his brother, that his eyes could dare to meet another's, that his voice could dare to speak. but, even in his dreams, his eyes wandered like water to the cracks in the earth, and his voice faltered, without enough air to lift it, and with nothing to say in any case.

the only words that passed his lips, mumbled almost unconsciously, were words of deprication. "how i hate myself," he whispered. shocked at the words, but more than this, shocked at the vehemence, the living FEELING that surged in them, he whispered them again. "how i hate myself." it seemed so true, in fact, the only truth. and as he spoke it yet again, this time with more strength and power, he discovered that he was unafraid to be overheard by the giants, for likely, it was something they already would have muttered, had their glowing eyes chanced upon his miserable, huddled form. and so, he chanted it again and again, like a mantra, and the words seemed to build with an intensity and force all their own, growing louder and louder. before long, he was practically shouting it, pounding his chest with clenched fists, feeling in the pain of the impacts a small measure of excitement...