have very little money; all my profits are being eaten up by my obsession. I cannot even afford to repair my boats. When the warm weather comes I will set my creatures to selling ice cream on deck. A cruelty, but my work must go on... .
I am coming to hate the sight of a refrigerator. Last night, sleep-walking, I bumped into my deepfreeze and awoke crying for mercy. My eyes rolled wild in my head; I took an axe and tried to cut the vile thing down, but its enamel proved the defeater of me. I will never again eat frozen food...
No one can conceive the variety of emotions that now bear me onwards. I have resolved, contrary to my first intention, to make a being of gigantic stature; that is to say about eight feet high and proportionally large. Such a being will be able to withstand the current. A new species will then bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures will owe their existence to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I will be able to claim theirs...
It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life one by one, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning, the rain pattered dismally at my panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open. It breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs. Immediately the thing sat up on the table and asked for semolina.
When I told it I had none it flew into a rage and threatened my very life. I trembled as I watched it stand carefully on those legs I had chosen and begin to comb its hair with hands I had made. I had desired it to live with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished and horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created preening itself, I rushed out of the room and threw myself on my bed in my clothes. I slept, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams: a prisoner within a huge fridge-freezer forced to live on ice cream and Black Forest Gâteau. I tried to flee, but my efforts were foiled by the ever-closing door of the fridge. I started from my sleep with horror, a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth chattered, and then, holding up the curtain around my bed, I saw the thing itself, dressed all in white, with a long white beard and an ice-cream pallor. I cursed the day I had thought of using vanilla essence as a moisture for the brain. The creature smiled serenely, told me that he was more powerful than I could possibly imagine and was about to leave for a holiday to see the world. I reached out my hand to detain him, but he vanished...
Months have passed. He has taken to living in a cloud. I realised that I must bargain with him, and so we have invented something we call Fundamental Religion. That is, he claims to have made the world and everything on it, and I go along with that as his chosen spokesman. It will make me rich, and perhaps give me a chance to regain control. He still needs me. He's powerful beyond measure but doesn't know which knife to use for pâté. As long as he needs me, I have a hold...
Desi put down the manuscript. She couldn't believe it. Noah had made the Unpronounceable by accident out of a piece of gâteau and a giant electric toaster. No wonder he hated frozen food. It began to make sense. But why didn't the Unpronounceable just destroy him? Surely by now he must have learned to negotiate the cutlery? And why were they so keen to make the movie? As she was thinking, she saw a piece of paper wedged on top of the manuscript. She read it. It was a memo, very badly typed, from someone called Lucifer, and it warned Noah that he'd better be at the Gaza Strip to meet the Unpronounceable right after the
I am coming to hate the sight of a refrigerator. Last night, sleep-walking, I bumped into my deepfreeze and awoke crying for mercy. My eyes rolled wild in my head; I took an axe and tried to cut the vile thing down, but its enamel proved the defeater of me. I will never again eat frozen food...
No one can conceive the variety of emotions that now bear me onwards. I have resolved, contrary to my first intention, to make a being of gigantic stature; that is to say about eight feet high and proportionally large. Such a being will be able to withstand the current. A new species will then bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures will owe their existence to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I will be able to claim theirs...
It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life one by one, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning, the rain pattered dismally at my panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open. It breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs. Immediately the thing sat up on the table and asked for semolina.
When I told it I had none it flew into a rage and threatened my very life. I trembled as I watched it stand carefully on those legs I had chosen and begin to comb its hair with hands I had made. I had desired it to live with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished and horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created preening itself, I rushed out of the room and threw myself on my bed in my clothes. I slept, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams: a prisoner within a huge fridge-freezer forced to live on ice cream and Black Forest Gâteau. I tried to flee, but my efforts were foiled by the ever-closing door of the fridge. I started from my sleep with horror, a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth chattered, and then, holding up the curtain around my bed, I saw the thing itself, dressed all in white, with a long white beard and an ice-cream pallor. I cursed the day I had thought of using vanilla essence as a moisture for the brain. The creature smiled serenely, told me that he was more powerful than I could possibly imagine and was about to leave for a holiday to see the world. I reached out my hand to detain him, but he vanished...
Months have passed. He has taken to living in a cloud. I realised that I must bargain with him, and so we have invented something we call Fundamental Religion. That is, he claims to have made the world and everything on it, and I go along with that as his chosen spokesman. It will make me rich, and perhaps give me a chance to regain control. He still needs me. He's powerful beyond measure but doesn't know which knife to use for pâté. As long as he needs me, I have a hold...
Desi put down the manuscript. She couldn't believe it. Noah had made the Unpronounceable by accident out of a piece of gâteau and a giant electric toaster. No wonder he hated frozen food. It began to make sense. But why didn't the Unpronounceable just destroy him? Surely by now he must have learned to negotiate the cutlery? And why were they so keen to make the movie? As she was thinking, she saw a piece of paper wedged on top of the manuscript. She read it. It was a memo, very badly typed, from someone called Lucifer, and it warned Noah that he'd better be at the Gaza Strip to meet the Unpronounceable right after the
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