| It is said that death is a lonely business...but then again, many things
are said.
The world ended today. I saw it. I was there. I saw the steam rise from the Sea of Tarel and the vapor condense over the desert of Calamari. Funny thing that rain - it was green, not blue. There was a man, not exactly alone, who lived in a tower in that wild wasteland. Now he's dead, with only a purplish ape to take care of his books, baubles, and things. The gods must be angry with us. A ball of fire struck the Kingdom of Gelda. Those poor bastards fried in their own homes. The screaming was short-lived (a mercy indeed) yet still I believe that the gods must be angry with us. In the western reaches, in the dry lands of the Arabi, there were two hundred thirty-four ponds, watering-holes and oasis' - I know, I counted them - most turned to steam and those that did not were filled with shards of glass that once were sand. There was a caravan near Gilgil on the day the world ended - have you ever seen a man roasted in his own clothes and cut to bits by flying diamonds? The gods must be angry indeed. A stone flew from the heavens and hit a strange village with the force of Heracles. I saw a little dog with a "V" on its collar resting in a plaza near to the scaffolding of a great X. As the sun was obscured and the shade descended, the little dog peered up into the sky and whispered a sound - a second later the boulder demolished the Plaza of X, yet I will remain the rest of my days pondering the strange sound uttered by that little dog. The gods must be angry with us and the animals as well. I noted farther south a group of animals walking on two legs. They bantered about as if they were human, but animals are animals and people are people. They have taken control of Panaras, the whole wild pack, and I fear they shall take hold of what's left of the world. So you see, if the world is run by animals it is no world at all - as I said, the world ended today for the gods are very, very angry with us. They say that death is a lonely business and here I am, Sir Tisbitt,
dead as a doorknob and sitting on Aseph's Finger. My body lies at the bottom
of some nameless cavern in a land that now glows a most curious shade of
gold. Here I am with no one to bury me, no one to bless me, no one to wish
me well in the land of the shades. So I sit surrounded by the sea and I
see with empty sockets, I think with no brains, I walk on bones alone and
I ponder the last words of that little dog laying in the spot marked X.
I understand now. I understand completely his last words: "Oh, shit."
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