We were on a street called Bannerville. I remember that. Huh. The streetlights were bare of the terrible burden of d**h. Yeah. Some of them work. They glowed green. At the end of Bannerville, we'd turn to the right and we'd be a block away from the Truffidian Cathedral.
A strange surge of joy or recognition overtook us, all out of proportion to our reality. We began to run, to laugh, abandoning our shuffle through the shadows; with safety so close, it was agony to walk slowly. The worst seemed past. It really did. I was already thinking about what I'd say to Bonmot. I was already thinking about that, Truff help me.
And Sybel had been holding my hand. He was a little behind me at this point. We were almost at the end of Bannerville, not more than twenty feet from safety. Overhead, a street lamp flickered free of the green glow that pervaded the rest of the city.
And we were both about to turn the corner. I could hear Sybel's heavy breathing as he ran. Then I heard an unfamiliar sound-a sound trapped between a gasp and a moan-and when I turned and looked at Sybel, all I could see was a mist of blood, floating out in streamers. I stopped running and stared. I couldn't breathe for a second. Nothing of him was left-not even his shoes, man. Nothing at all. His dissolution was complete and utter. There was such a final terrible beauty to it. I thought it must be an absurd magic trick, a horrible joke. But it wasn't, and the laughter caught in my throat and became a sob. Yeah, laughter caught in my throat and became a sob. Yeah.
(The closer I get to the end)
(The closer I get to the end)
(The closer I get to the end)
The closer I get to the beginning
(The closer I get to the end)
(The closer I get to the end)
The closer I get to the beginning
(The closer I get to the end)
(The closer I get to the end)
The closer I get to the beginning
(The closer I get to the end)