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She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. "Because she's a fire-opal, and to the world at large they bring bad luck. I have calculated my chances, you perceive. She fled. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness. The opiate has done its duty. It was something that would create a mutual claim, a relationship. She had found the mausoleum underneath a broken monument.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 03-07-2024 18:50:56
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