testing...

This is the field.  You see webs, but never spiders.  Only butterflies, buddleias and empty black suits with black ties tied around empty white shirts.

She was content in her body (I'm gonna leave my body), she was content being a memetic animal, made of self-conscious meat (moving up to higher ground).

Runners are always the ones who find the bodies, just like in the advertisement.  She ran, so she found a body.
Ran into the field, only to find herself.  Only to find herself twice.

The viceroy suits with wings for heads and black and orange frilled edges peeking out from their cuffs like little kid fingers in dress-up.

The Viceroy Suits.  Unified field.

She saw the dozen with orange blindfolds over their eyes running in the field.  One passed through a web without so much as shaking the dew off it.

Hermes in Acheron.  Hermes Psychopompos.  How often do I get to draw from the well?  
Herms; can't resist a dick joke.  Can't.

Once you had a demon lover who was almost eight feet tall.  He nearly killed you, but you found his bones and scattered them in the sunlight.  This also never happened.

A dybbuk is between memory and the dead, with fingers in the living.

If you cannot resist changing your past, how can your future resist changing you?

I'm gonna leave my body.
Moving up to higher ground.