A View to a Death

           Overtheislandthebuild-upofcloudscontinued.Asteadycurrentofheatedairrosealldayfromthemountainandwasthrusttotenthousandfeet;revolvingmassesofgaspiledupthestaticuntiltheairwasreadytoexplode.Byearlyeveningthesunhadgoneandabrassyglarehadtakentheplaceofcleardaylight.Eventheairthatpushedinfromtheseawashotandheldnorefreshment.Colorsdrainedfromwaterandtreesandpinksurfacesofrock,andthewhiteandbrowncloudsbrooded.Nothingprosperedbuttheflieswhoblackenedtheirlordandmadethespiltgutslooklikeaheapofglisteningcoal.EvenwhenthevesselbrokeinSimon’snoseandthebloodgushedouttheylefthimalone,preferringthepig’shighflavor.

           WiththerunningofthebloodSimon’sfitpassedintothewearinessofsleep.Helayinthematofcreeperswhiletheeveningadvancedandthecannoncontinuedtoplay.Atlasthewokeandsawdimlythedarkearthclosebyhischeek.Stillhedidnotmovebutlaythere,hisfacesidewaysontheearth,hiseyeslookingdullybeforehim.Thenheturnedover,drewhisfeetunderhimandlaidholdofthecreeperstopullhimselfup.Whenthecreepersshookthefliesexplodedfromthegutswithaviciousnoteandclampedbackonagain.Simongottohisfeet.Thelightwasunearthly.TheLordoftheFlieshungonhissticklikeablackball.

           Simonspokealoudtotheclearing.

           "Whatelseistheretodo?"

           Nothingreplied.Simonturnedawayfromtheopenspaceandcrawledthroughthecreeperstillhewasintheduskoftheforest.Hewalkeddrearilybetweenthetrunks,hisfaceemptyofexpression,andthebloodwasdryroundhismouthandchin.