Inches above the tar, his breath slowed to a bubbling sputter that flecked the smoothing surface of the oily dark in front of him with small bits of saliva and grit. He had come to this land days ago with only fair trade in mind. He had his goods and his gold in his cat, and he had the tight light of the sun on his shoulders. He had no real sense for what his own arrival had brought with it, for he had arrived and brought with him the raked, cold mess that spreads.
As he sank, the moon smoothed its way along the deep black of the air.
It was only the beginning.
***
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