Time is fixed . The clock on the wall , like all the clocks , reports twenty minutes to nine . A wedding , never to take place . A table still laden with a foul rotting wedding feast , covered with dust , mold , a black fungus with speckled-legged spiders , and blotchy bodies running all over .
That which has watched everything will strike back , to light the dark desolate tomb .
Judge and jury , it sets itself , and her , alight . A great flame springs up from the hearth place .
White cotton wool is placed over her , taking the place of her black and soot covered bridal gown . The white exterior unable to cancel the blackness inside .
Fire burns all . Burns all . Burns .
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