I see The Old Man is back after a long lay off.
A Time-Travelling Tale that ends well
Christmas Day, 2842CE. A universe aeons away goes ‘phut’: In no more than a picosecond, complete darkness. The only sound, that of a whispering zephyr. In its wake, a pseudo macrocosm’s ever-decreasing guttural burps fading away into a soundless zilch. Left behind, ruination’s nothingness. The crumpled scum perished. Once relishing in a perverse, now empty, endlessness, lovely Lily’s mission is over and done with.
A field south of Paris, 1938CE: As of the newborn moment, looking skyward, a sparkling flash of disco-dancing stars, glittering like pale turquoise precious gems on a black velvet backcloth, she rediscovered her sanity. Heavenly bodies magical frolics short-lived, a momentary spectacle foretelling serendipity had taken her back home. Pure-blooded time had slumbered far too long. Quick-witted incandescent celestial prima ballerinas now tripping the light fantastic, just for her. An extravaganza that put menacing iniquity to shame, for…
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