After the sickness took her, I dedicated my life to reversing
it. I sold my businesses, much to my assistant’s tears, and poured the proceeds
into sorcerers and priests, and then steam-users and technographers.
The woman next door tried to keep me engaged with the world,
but I focused everything on my all important task, growing every more distant
with petty concerns like society.
When I died, and the Gods appeared before me, I asked why I
couldn’t have had my love back.
My assistant, the female technographer, my neighbour, they
had tried to send me love again, they replied.
No comments:
Post a Comment