To See the Earth Before the End of the World

Clock death on every corner

38 . . . Bidders on our own Hells, conservators who reassemble shadow copies of shadows, Han lion-dog guards next up at Sotheby’s— Hell’s Han dogs are as man-made as the gates they stand outside, blocking this imperial light from our world. Clock death on every corner even if only a small stick driven into the ground by an explosion, a gnomon. When the sun isn’t shining, there is fire for shadow. But we are on this company line, we are on our payroll of our clock. We make lots of money known as time to spend but lessen numbers of lives to fill with it. Noon without either shade or equinox ...