[Christine P'legion]

Rev. 1

AND THEN
When she tired of being human, she made her bed and left the front door unlocked, finding it surprisingly easy to choose another way—first sliding onto the river, then under it. As her body lengthened she felt the pull of her head and feet stretching toward the sky; her belly swelled and hardened. Back went her arms like wings, like gunwales, up went her face as a figurehead, reflecting bliss, bliss—up she came out of the river a hard sleek thing, buoyant, glass-bottomed, with her belly full of beauty and face squaring east to meet the sun.



Orig.

AND THEN

When she tired of being human, she found it was the easiest thing in the world to choose another way—to first slide into the river, then under it. As her body lengthened she felt the pull of her head and feet stretching toward the sky; her belly swelled and hardened. Back went her arms like wings, like gunwales, up went her face as a figurehead, reflecting bliss, bliss—down she went into the river and out she came, a hard sleek thing, a glass-bottomed boat, with her belly full of beauty and her face squaring east to meet the dawn.