#giorgiou

English Channal, 1940 

"Where there are no monsters, we generally invent our own." This is what you told me. 

Now I am thinking of these words again. I am on a ship crossing the Channel, surrounded by scared and confused faces. The bloodthirsty beast named War has already devoured the Continent, and nobody know how long can the Channel hold back the disaster. 

Would you look at all this with those melancholic yet mocking eyes of yours? 

You were, among all the people I've known, a very special one. It seemed that you did not care about the secrets beneath the skin of the world; you were an artist in dealing with people, a man of the world - this world. I felt, at that time, that associating with you could give my brain some rest and assure me that I was still living in a real world of real people, for I was in such a daze with all those bizarre and grotesque things that happened around me. But now, when I look back, I guess perhaps you have long seen through this world: it's still the mortals, that we should love, hate, thank or fear. Just like the life that we shared as mortals, and just like your end that I've heard of. 

Indeed, the Hours are not merciful; yet the mortals can be even more cruel. I've already seen the flames of war that rage across the Continent - even a war between Hours would not claim so many lives. 

I am afraid, I am so afraid. 

Because the world we've known is falling apart, and I don't even know to whom I shall pray.

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