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He felt light-headed, almost feverish, but he knew that death was hunting for him on that road—no, something worse than death, something far more empty, grim, and limitless than death.
A head full of shadows. And all the sunlight in the world won’t drive them away.
“If you go on the river, they can find you.”
“There you are!” The voice made Paul want to scream and bite at his own flesh. “We had wondered how long it would be until we found you again. . . .”
Being weary of the world’s empires, bow down to you, Master of the still stars and of the flaming door.
With mounting discomfort, Paul realized that they were in the hands of a madman.
There was a freedom in being obstinate, the freedom of ignoring unpleasant truths.
It is the hunger for warmth, for family, for connection to the stars and the earth and other living things. . . .”
“Ad Aeternum”
Towards eternity
I’m . . . Paul Jonas.
Remembrance was taking root in what had been empty places, sprouting and flowering.
Old memories and new were growing together, but in the midst there lay a scar, a barren place they could not cover. The confusion in his head was terrible, but most terrible of all was this blankness.
You have just met the Angel of Death and he’s a stranger. He is always a stranger.
