After the Demons Came
I used to come to this place before the demons came.
It was quiet and I would sit in the shade of the yellow blossom trees watching
ships go up and down the river.
The locals seem to regard the great pits that the demons are delving into the earth
as some sort of future tourist attraction.
People, they say, will come by the hundreds to admire the sulphurous flames
burning in the fiery strata revealed to the eyes of men for the first time in millions of years.
They do not seem to mind the thick yellow fumes hanging in the air or the harsh
guttural cries of the satanic workmen labouring with their picks and machinery.
I do not believe they can even see the thousands of slaves that are being used in
48hour shifts or how the corpses are disposed of quite openly
in kilns and quicklime and acid.
