My book needs a chapter on death; though this theme already pervades every section and page. Is it enough to reflect the atmosphere of indifference with my words? Should I also make explicit effort to relate what I’ve found haunting the wastes, and also the places where my species makes noise and laughter to push away the night? Perhaps it’s enough to let the finality beyond life blow like the cold desert wind, or sit for millennia like a desert rock slowly turning to sand. I should then simply allow these things to be. Let the wind blow, and the Earth turn to sand. Let the story be told to both the day and the night, the living and the dead, and most clearly to whoever will go alone.