"Her ignorance ran so deep she felt like crying.
What were the stars?
How had the world come into existence?
Why did she need to breathe?
What was the purpose of it all?
In those moments, the utter chaos of the world pressed against her, and she shivered beneath her fur blanket, feeling as small as a mote of dust flitting with a breeze. She’d heard the various myths of creation, of course, but there were so many. All different. Which one should she believe in?"
ーThe Killing Fog by Jeff Wheeler
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Splattering crimson like a dashing demon
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