21/04/2026 14:33

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Had we been enemies, you would be dead now, he said, his voice hoarser than it ought to have been. I prayed to Enlil. They were heading north to the rendezvous point, the placewhere the Ghor had taken Perrnodt. Over here.

There are histories here. I think of us, of our long stay on Kundala, of being idle, of being in one place too long, of being deprivedof both home and of the forward momentum impelling us to find another home. It was all in the combining, the sorcery of language. In between is airless dark.