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Face over McCreight Lake. |
When a troll gets old and starts to think seriously about the universe it normally finds a quiet spot and gets down to some hard philosophising, and after a while starts to forget about its extremities. It begins to crystallise around the edges until nothing remains except a tiny flicker of life inside quite a large hill with some unusual rock strata. ...
Last night Rincewind had looked at cracks in stone and seen them become mouths and eyes; now he looked at the great cliff face and saw the features become, like magic, mere blemishes in the rock.
(From The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett.)
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Cuando un troll se hace viejo y empieza a meditar profundamente sobre el universo, suele encontrar un lugar tranquilo para dedicarse en serio a filosofar. Tras un tiempo, comienza a olvidarse de sus extremidades. Empieza a cristalizarse por los bordes hasta que no queda nada más que una tenue chispa de vida dentro de una colina bastante grande, una colina con estratos rocosos insólitos.
... los ojos de Rincewind empezaban a jugarle malas pasadas. La noche anterior, al contemplar las grietas en la piedra, las vio convertirse en bocas y ojos; ahora observaba en la cara del acantilado cómo los rasgos se convertían por arte de magia en simples protuberancias rocosas.
(De La Luz Fantástica, por Terry Pratchett.)
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