The Absurdity Under Three Suns
Act I: The Disappearance I have spent my entire existence listening. It is not a choice. We do not choose to listen—listening chose us, the way the second sun chose the eastern valley to warm first each cycle, the way the third sun chose to set three minutes late on the day the great cracks appeared in the western glass. I am the Listener, and listening is what I am, the way a river is wet and...
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