Day One Thousand Two Hundred Thirty Nine #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Mei writes:

Today was beyond dark. To me. The sunny blue skies open to everyone else were closed behind the shutters of my denial.

I can still hear the sounds of celebration around the city – voices raised in laughter and exultation. Happy throngs weaved about the streets calling to their fellows, congratulating one another for their triumph over their foes.

Then they began to lavish gifts on one another, declaring their independence from any and all restrictions.

I kept well away from them all.

I would almost despair if I did not have faith in the promises. There was a time before when these feelings would have crushed the very life from me.

I tell myself it will all be over soon.

Day One Thousand Eighty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Our transition was only to a more lofty prison. Upon arrival our guards hustled one and all up to the floor beneath the penthouse. Promises were made of an audience above, immediately upon the return of the Supreme Commander.

The demeanor of our captors has improved towards us. They are cowed by these surroundings and no doubt in awe that their very presence here is in large part due to us.

We were allowed to converse and even given freedom to move about. The view was negligible though, given the darkness of the hour, but come morning it was unobstructed in every direction.

Far away in the dock area I saw what could only be the Captain’s beloved ‘rust bucket.’

Day Six Hundred Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We all made the trek to the city. Beforehand we prepared by rehearsing among ourselves what to do if stopped and confronted. We intended to scatter and make our way back individually.

Elijah was silent throughout our time in the huddle. We took it for his tacit approval.

None of us knew what to expect actually regarding this announcement. We saw giant speakers mounted in the square, so it seemed natural to assume a satellite radio connection.

We were shocked along with the whole crowd when Stan’s moving image appeared above the speakers on the walls of the building behind them.

Stan declared peace to the world, and made extravagant promises.

We had no problem returning through the cheering crowd.

Day Four Hundred One #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

A raucous rally kept us awake last night. We could hear Stan’s voice excite the crowd with his promises. As he wound up, he announced his intent to hold enrollments at the riverfront inn later on this afternoon.

Elijah and I debated whether or not to drop in on this event. He wanted to. I didn’t. I could see no reason to want to do so. As for his reasons, they sounded to me like simple curiosity. When he confirmed that understanding, I countered with the observation that the only reason to be there at all would be for an all-out confrontation. This brought a twinkle to his eye.

And so he went. I await here for his return.

Day Four Hundred #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Elijah and I have come to the same conclusion. Stan is here to extend and widen the reach of the world government.

But we disagree on what to do next. I believe his appearance was the answer to our “when to leave” question. Now.

Elijah clings to the notion that we still have a responsibility. What that is exactly, remains a mystery.

In my considered opinion, all followers of Hamashiach are safely out of his reach.

A case in point, the former owners of this inn were believers that left. The current possessors, we have learned, simply took over.

All the remaining denizens in this town are ripe to receive the “mark” for his promises.

What is left to do?

Day One Hundred Fifty Nine #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle has put his request in with Moglen. Moglen declared he would do all he could to bring about the meeting desired, but stopped short of any promises.

On his way back, Lyle, like me, also had a prompting to go to the first district. But unlike in my case, he found the gate open.

A shiver went through me, even before he told me that a golden statue now stands on the pedestal in its great square.  It is a statue of a man, bearing the likeness of Stan.

I had to go see this for myself. I arrived to find the gate still open and many people milling around the square.

But a white canvas covered the statue.

Day Thirteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Up early this morning. I couldn’t sleep any longer anyway. I had remembered why the name of Lyle the pigeon boy came to me. I had made a promise to someone to find him if I could.

They did not know which bridge he lived under. They just knew the fact that he did.

“Like a troll?” I asked. They thought that was funny, but avoided answering, just exacted the promise, and added that it would be worth my while.

But I was serious after a manner of speaking. I was hoping they would offer some sort of explanation.

Spent the day searching – nothing – which leaves the other bridges to check. A confirmation? That was the third option after all.