The crowd murmured nervously as the interior minister of Cyberflow Control shook his hoary head. "Most unfortunate it had to come to this." Psiofficer Caramel pocketed his pulse oscillator and stared down at the rheum-strewn corpse and shrugged. "He should have known better than to go on opinionating without a permit."
The sky was dark as the carapace of the beetles which scurried hither and thither beneath the flinty, scattered boughs of the gnarled and dying trees as the man moved over the khaki hillocks of the endless moor, the traveling lamp unshuttered the world in its eastward descent unto oblivion as if following the lonely… Continue reading Tomb of the Father: Chapter One, Traveler On The Moor