I’ve really not supposed that I should know the state in which I lay. I am buried I think, by who I do not know. I remember darkness, a muttered, muffled voice, swelling like a wave within my head. Two voices now, one gentle, the other harsh and unyielding. I do not know what to say, if I should respond, this is all so foreign to me. Someone is prodding from within, begging to be let free, a little girl, screaming to be let free. I want to hold her, to comfort her, but her voice is swallowed by one as deep as the sea. The little girl seems swallowed into it as he speaks. Words like thunder and lightning, and only the earth could distinguish his words, were they so menacingly deep and terrible. But like a cloud, more like a thunder storm. He began to cry, and with the little girl he howled. I could hear the duet from below the earth, not so far above me that I could just barely hear their sobbing playwright…
A duet and dance for me…

My coffin caught on fire, starting from my feet. I cried out in pain and suffering, wondering if at long last I might be allowed to die. Laughter and derisive queer sounds and faces swirled above me, tormenting me, scratching me, replaying the failures in my life, rehearsed with a thousand demon children, dancing and carousing, as I had in my youth. Naked and on fire they swirled about my eyes, dropping bits of burning sulfur and flame onto my face and gasping mouth. The flame seemed to catch within my throat and explode into my belly, disintegrating me, and I smiled one last time thinking at long last, obliteration…