Harper

hears sounds

but they are distant and queer

echoing and wavering

as if heard through deepest, darkest

        water.

Light

assaults her

shimmering, shivering, streaming beams.

I - I - I'm on

the... the...

floor of the ocean, she surmises.

H - how did I get h - here?

        Haaaarpeeeer,

bassoons an octopus, a wavering, morphing irritant

        oooopeeenn iiiiiiiiizzzzzz.

They are, Harper groans,

O -

-pen.

But what         is she seeing?

It all looks impossible, so surreal:

From her chest extend

light-tentacles. Light?

Yes, light-tentacles.  Arrgggggghh, she screams,

attempts to rise

cracks slumping heavied head

then flurries hands

        through

through what? - Through strings? Impossible! 

Those coiling-extensions like embodied smoke, can't be.....

Nooooooo. Panic, 

panic,

        panic,

flail, fluster, flail

clawing at neoned entrails, claw.....

.

        Q U I E T ! 

booms a voice, authoritative and fierce.

        CALM yourself!

.

Harper's eyes, owl-wide

grow wide-wilder, mesmerised

as a dark, clawed limb asserts reason

asylums Harper's mouth.

.

        Stop fighting! So ridiculous!

        There. There. There and there.

        Now, breathe, Harper, breathe.

.

Harper does

but sickened by the rank

raw-meat reek

and smothered by spiked spider hairs

        jerks

half vomits.

but survival is strong

determination preeminent

and she Wills herself, against her will, to calm.

.

        That's a good little Harper.

        Will you let me explain?

.

Harper nods, un-resigned,

Blue eyes preternaturally dangerous.

.

        You asked for a harp. Have been

        provided with one and now

        you must learn to play it - yes?

.

Harper eyes laser hate

but she nods, pseudo-acquiescent.

.

        Much, much better.

        Now stand and attend.