THE TRAVELLER (NARRATION):
Dusk crept over the world and one star after another came out. Weena's fears grew upon her at being so far from home, but I pointed out distant spires, explaining that we would be safe there. As twilight deepened into night, she held on to me, closed her eyes tightly and soon drifted into sleep.
I carried her down the slope, waded through a stream and up out of the valley. From the hilltop I saw a dark forest and hesitated. Weary and footsore, I gently put her down and wrapped her in my jacket. I had seen nothing of the Morlocks and decided to pass the night on the open hill.
Above me, all the old constellations were gone. That slow drift imperceptible in a hundred human lifetimes had long since rearranged them into unfamiliar patterns. I wondered at their unfathomable distance; their eternal journey from an unknown past into an unknown future. The Time Machine's journey dwindled in comparison. And yet, in all those years I had travelled, the religions, science, aspirations, even the mere memory of Man as I knew him, had been swept out of existence.
[The sung thought of The Traveller]I see patterns in the sky Of swirling, burning dust Falling into the night Falling away from us While children play in the rye While the world turns to rust Time is passing us by What will become of us? Thought we’d set the world alight But the stars don’t shine for us We’re just sparks in the night Just swirling, burning dust THE TRAVELLER (NARRATION):
My vigil wore on and I dozed at times. Presently came a faintness in the eastern sky, a pale reflection of colourless fire. With the warmth of a new dawn came resolve and confidence as we headed out towards the Palace of Green Porcelain.Side: 3 Track: 3 Duration: 8.00 Mood: reflective, wistful, peaceful Status: Not complete. Notes: