Sunday, August 7, 2011

If I regret anything about my time with Atlas, it's that we couldn't give him a proper funeral. A proper burial, yes, but we can't manage the respect he truly deserves. We couldn't even get a real headstone. We engraved a simple inscription on a damn plank.

Harrison Peabody
The man who held the sky

He didn't suffer when he went out. He cracked jokes the whole time, until his coughing stopped him from talking at all. With his death, Billy - his only companion besides us worthless humans - lost that...Spark. We left him in the field with Atlas' grave, where he could graze near his beloved. You could tell when the Spark had left him. Billy's coat faded to a dirty grey, and his horns seemed to shrink. His hoofprints are now deeper than they had been when he had the Spark. He no longer walks as if on air.

Anansi tells me the dog's mind is impenetrable. I suppose we will have to work things out the old-fashioned way.

And now...back to business.

The answer to the previous inquiry was K.K. Collins. You still have a question to ask of me,'s inquiry.

No. No inquiry today. I'm sorry, Emilia.


  1. I'm so sorry, Guess. Questions can wait until after you've grieved.

  2. I swallow my grief as I swallow my pride. Worse has come before, and worse will follow. Mine is a life of business, now.

  3. Guess... this may be too broad to qualify as a question, but... What, exactly, are you and your colleagues capable of? I've been able to figure out some of it, but I'd like to know more, and where it all came from.