‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. The music throbbed into the warnings that preceded the king’s irruption. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. She bussed his cheek with her small lips as he stood by the open door, and exited alone towards the sleeping house. But it’s only now I’m able to do it. A wrathful God was watching him. But I do not even care if I am absurd. Nicholas is dead.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 19-09-2024 16:57:17
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