Defeated, battered, and broken, he turned and wandered out into the wasteland..never to be seen or heard from ever again.
The one thing he had left behind was a tome of sorts that listed in it a story, one characterized by redundancy in repetition of familiar themes that played through, over and over again. However, such was something of the story of the world and its people, in all of its triviality and follies. It lay in a crumpled heap, pages ripped from its binding, bent and ruined. Perhaps...he had been searching for the one message that would deliver him unto salvation, a way to repair things to the way they were. But the end, it would seem, was not a happy one..and brought only endless frustration on his already stricken mind.
One onlooker in the distance could swear that he heard the faint sound of music playing when the wanderer from afar had turned to leave..but perhaps it was but the desert winds kicking up over the dunes.
Commentary: A quiet picture of a more personal theme, not necessarily of any canonical exert for a story or event in the upcoming comics. There was a story here, at one time..but now, it's more of an after thought. Perhaps a closing of the end chapter, and the opening of another book.
6 years, 1 month ago
09 Nov 2012 23:57 CET
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