Muo Yad?

Things rapidly exhale and the sunrise will with it bring a ripple of firey cleansing and shattery roar.
The earth will literally melt away beneath us.
The word hastening keeps being used as if to ward us, but they don’t realize it is too late for anyone else to catch a ride on the bus out.

Trajectories fly overhead, piercing sleep and breath and we scatter as if there were a hole deep enough to protect us from what comes. What happens, what’s happened all along, is what is unfolding well beyond our reach.

Any of our healthier hopes and efforts are just dainty lies, waiting to be blown apart like flaming leaves.

It’s coming to me, as I’ve seen before. An awful storm, and the centrifuge is the key. The question and answer. It’s a circle. Everything is and always was. All of these things have happened before, and what I don’t know is if it will or won’t happen again.

IF eventually there was going to be a time when he stopped spinning the top, and moved on to another game.

Did we get it right this time? Did I remember enough in time? We’ll see, because like the Gunslinger finding his way to the tower only to be sucked through again and start over, memory wiped, but this time with the horn of Eld, as he should have had the first fucking thousand times before, I don’t know if I’ve remembered the horn, and can progress.

Even if not, it’s been an amazing journey.

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