"Alice at the End of All Things"

#0057. Across the aeons and still she waits, older than time itself, older than the Giant, older than evil, older than anything. She stands watch at the end of all things. From my cell, in between circlets of stars and stumbling starved, I can see the end of all things. In the dirty and blood smeared concrete of the cell floor, I see the end of all things. She is there, waiting with the key. She will usher me out and across some great divide of primal static. She is unending. She will hold my hand through my ending.