Things long past and things to come echo through my brain. I see the lips of a god forming first a blessing, then a curse. I hear the crackle of fire and screams, voices of my family and of people I have never known. There is always a dark shape behind my reflection and a prickly smell seeps through to me from the other side of the rain.
The signs are all there.
But my speech sounds like lies to the average ear, and the average eye cannot see what I see, and thus no one steps forwards to save the world.
And I know that when the time comes, I will dance among the flames singing: ‘I told you so’, because at that point, I will have become too mad to care.
But that is of little consolation to me now.