Calling all stations! Are you receiving?
Perilously far… Sam the gardener and the end of the ring con…
No more control! All you death dealers, you skull eaters! Play all the reports back! Speak I to the world. Tell them the truth of control. Control- the one ring. Black, obsidian black, like the death from the last needle in the last hut in the last resting place before the Western Lands.
No more words here. The long eruption of fire orgasmic pinwheel across the sky. He held the boy in his arms, stroked the rough matted hair and watched the show.
“Do you remember Josie Cotton?”
Far away, the sound of a thousand insects fleeing. Turn out the lights. Flame jism cascading down around him. The taste of strawberries…