A memory wriggled itself out of the hell of its archive.
We implored it to stay. Cast ourselves upon the ground below it and cried up to its radiance.
I’m one of the last Piecemen left. We few holdouts who didn’t want to seek refuge in the Light.
I seem to pick up parasites like hitchhikers when I’m out there.
Timothy often earned money and trinkets by showing newcomers around and making sure to point them in the right direction for the things they needed. As well as the things he knew they really wanted.
As the light filtered through its pearlescent form, it was split in a manner similar to a prism. I had never encountered anything like this in the two years that I had been here.