Amity's posts

But realistically, this would not come to pass.

He knew from history it wouldn't be the first time such a thing had been done, and likely it wouldn't be the last.

If every person on the planet chose to forgive him, to forget his sin, it would be as if it never happened.

He supposed they could, actually. Undo what had been done, that is.

Silas sat at the edge of the grassland that gave way at the wastelands edge. Leaning against a small and twisted tree in what shade it could still offer, a straw of dried grass between his teeth as he considered.

All the clear spring water in the world couldn't save him now. All the society upon the earth couldn't undo what had been done.

Trees and grass and water and town. But what good was all that to a dead man?

That he would attempt the crossing seemed likely. After all what was left behind him?

And what of him?

White with the bone dust of those who had tried and failed to survive the crossing.

A haze of dust and death.

Not clouds nor fog, for no moisture would be found across the dead plains.

And in the distance... nothing. A haze obscured what could only be more wasteland.

No vultures wheeled in the sky above. This land had long been picked over, and even the birds knew better.