The World Moves On

The sky moved into eternity as the dark pier pointed, as if this world were slowly sucked into a vortex and being swallowed one moment at a time. The pier—like the dulled black barrel of a shotgun—aimed itself at the mountain, as if the eater of worlds hid somewhere within and one well-placed shot could kill. And what of the greatness of man? Long gone to some other place; his existence here had run its race . . . and lost. And soon, not just the sky, but . . .