For Anton, it was always all so beautiful. They were beyond him. They were there for him to worship. He felt it was ordained on high that he worship them. The great dragons. The fire, the wings. the tails, the power. The reason for his existence was the great fire breathing dragons of Zeundeachin. When Anton looked at the dragons he saw nothing but beauty and grace. This would change.
Listen!
The waves. the water. the rocks, The cold. The taste of salt. His eyelids parted. The sea spray blurred his vision. He looked up. “I am still alive. Really?” He thought. “Fuck!” Alone. No remnants of his ship. The crew gone. The unkindest cut. The pain rushed in, His scream came without thought or provocation. Just pain. That is all. The pain gave way to the scream. Consciousness was absent. And the scream came. And no one cared to hear!
Dieter, why?
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