I remember awaking to the sound of lightning. But to say the sound was ominous would be to falsely claim the foresight for which I so sadly lack. If I had, could I have saved them?
I sit here eating beans from a can. Hunger pays no attention to God. God pays no attention to anything anymore. His decrepit creation is abandonment and anger wrapped in darkness and silence. Their screams have long-since ceased to be echoes.
They titled me immortal. We’re about to test this claim. When the earth is nothing but ash and bone, what purpose do I serve?