Words are pitter pattering through the tunnels in my head.
An echo here, an echo there.
Where did they all go?
Who?
The statues that point the way. The hieroglyphs that line the path.
Ah! There! Somewhere over that crest, the sun is shining it must be there!
But oh this green grass is too soft to want me to run over it.
I might just lay down here in the half light, and rest a little before we go.
The day's not moving anywhere but here really, let's take some time.
Some time away.
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