Domicile: Epilogue
Ralph blinked. The dream faded away into the blackness. Reflexively, his left hand clutched, digging fingers into the muddy earth beneath him. Slowly, clumsily, he stood on wobbly legs and looked up. A faint hint of daylight could be seen above him, partially highlighting the drop that he and Charles- who had since vanished- had taken at the conclusion of their fight. This time, circumstances had been in Ralph's favor.
A notebook lies open on the floor of the den, on the open page, these words are written:
If what Charles said has any merit, then I am the end of the Balmont line.
Names aren't important, merely a justification to feel a sense of pride. Pride seems to me to be a defensive thing. I don't seem to want that.
What matters more is how you live your own life.
THE END.
A notebook lies open on the floor of the den, on the open page, these words are written:
If what Charles said has any merit, then I am the end of the Balmont line.
Names aren't important, merely a justification to feel a sense of pride. Pride seems to me to be a defensive thing. I don't seem to want that.
What matters more is how you live your own life.
THE END.