Day One Thousand One Hundred Thirty Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

My old dream disturbed my slumber over night. The one in which blood dripped incessantly. But this time there were bodies afloat on the flood. There were stacks of them across the plain that disentangled from one another as the tide rose.

Once underway I broached the subject with Elijah. He was silent for the longest time after I finished speaking.

Reuben, who had been listening from the beginning, asked me if our angel were responsible. He meant for the carnage depicted, of course. Elijah broke in and confirmed this guess, but also went on to explain that he most likely was responsible for the dream itself.

At that instant we rounded a bend and saw Stan’s sacrificial high place.

Day One Thousand One Hundred Thirty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The struggle to our south has dropped completely from our view, instead we can see rank upon rank upon rank of the army of world government massing behind their defenses at the mouth of the valley below.

Reuben expressed to us his dismay at the sight of this vast array of power and might. I feared that this feeling would sink him into a kind of paralysis.

That’s when Elijah took him aside and talked to him. By their gestures and the look on Reuben’s face afterwards, I knew that my old friend had introduced him to the angel in whose shadow we move.

The change in Reuben was complete. And I took the opportunity to counsel on other things.