RavenMind

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Now every day when the sun goes down out of the purple sky, Jarry  Dark watches  it  in its passing, for he shall sleep no more the sleep of ice and of stone, wherein there is no dreaming. He has elected to live out the  span of  his  days  in  a  tiny  instant  of the Wait, never to look upon the New Alyonal of his people. Every morning, at the new Deadland  Installation,  he is  awakened  by sounds like the cracking of ice, the trembling of tin, the snapping of steel strands, before they come to  him  with  their  offerings, singing  and  making marks upon the snow. They praise him and he smiles upon them.
Sometimes he coughs.