An old woman in an indigo cloak trudges past us on the twilight beach.  She is carrying a smoking brazier; she stops in front of us and drops one smoldering ember on the sand in front of us.  Her hand is not scarred from touching the hot coal.  The old woman looks out at the horizon, the sun already melted beyond the eternal ocean, and then starts walking again down the beach.  The footprints she leaves in the sand also smolder and smoke like the still-glowing ember lying before us.  Soon, the fading sunlight disappears completely, and the ember remains as the only suggestion of light.


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