this… her waist, her hips, her breasts… hard to imagine she was formed by the same force of nature that crafted me and these… abominations. The yin and the yang personified in flesh. Beauty and beast born out of the same mindless chaos but now destroyed by that very void of consciousness. A memory, a shadow in my mind…

The sound of pages fluttering in the wind catch his attention and he looks down towards the doorway. His musings about how silly humanity is comes to an end. Chuck is gone but his sleeping bag remains. His book sits there also, the source of the noise.

He picks it up and flicks through the pages to examine it. It’s worn but ok: I love this book, so much quality in it.