Get Back Challenge: Post-a-thon

[Addy]

444

[Sunlight1232]

Young Wilcox’s rejoinder, which impressed my uncle enough to make him recall and record it verbatim, was of a fantastically poetic cast which must have typified his whole conversation, and which I have since found highly characteristic of him.

[Addy]

445

[Sunlight1232]

He said, “It is new, indeed, for I made it last night in a dream of strange cities;

[Addy]

446

[Sunlight1232]

and dreams are older than brooding Tyre, or the contemplative Sphinx, or garden-girdled Babylon.”

[Addy]

447

[Sunlight1232]

It was then that he began that rambling tale which suddenly played upon a sleeping memory and won the fevered interest of my uncle.

[Addy]

448

[Sunlight1232]

There had been a slight earthquake tremor the night before, the most considerable felt in New England for some years;

[Addy]

449

[Addy]

450

[Sunlight1232]

and Wilcox’s imagination had been keenly affected.

[Addy]

451

[Sunlight1232]

Upon retiring, he had had an unprecedented dream of great Cyclopean cities of titan blocks and sky-flung monoliths, all dripping with green ooze and sinister with latent horror.

[Addy]

452

[Sunlight1232]

Hieroglyphics had covered the walls and pillars, and from some undetermined point below had come a voice that was not a voice;

[Addy]

453

[Sunlight1232]

a chaotic sensation which only fancy could transmute into sound, but which he attempted to render by the almost unpronounceable jumble of letters, “Cthulhu fhtagn”.

[Addy]

454