Last night my Silver Key lead me across infinite tracts of space and time to the edge of a bleak, granite shore, which looking out across a restless black sea under a slate-grey sky. Across the horizon of that dismal ocean stretched the outline of a vast bastion of crooked and terrible aspect, risen from the watery depths in annuciation of the end of all things: this scene, I intuitively knew, depicted a time in Earth’s far distant future, at a point subsequent to the final demise of humanity - and perhaps of all life indigenous to the planet...
I soon realised that, strewn about me upon the scree of that despondant shore, lay the heralds of that monstrous structure, and habinger of Earth’s ultimate desolation: immeasurably ancient carvings depicting, in small shards of some blackish stone, an inhuman cephalopodan monstrosity.
One of these I placed in my trouser pocket - I know not why (out of idle desperation, perhaps?) - only to find it still there the following day, long after I awoke from that bleak yet prophetic dream.
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