Saturday, September 18, 2010
Posted by Jonathan Martin
Clink, Clink, Clink.
He had been busy. His bag did not feel any lighter, but he had used many coins. He had just finished with a man who had called himself Phillip. Phillip had been shot, by his once friend, his sister’s fiancé. But that did not matter.
The Pennyman did his job, without question, without fail. He had a list a mile long now, he travelled from body to body, from mouth to mouth. Alms for the poor, and obols for the dead. Next was a woman Sara, no H, he thought. Yes, he knew about her. He knew about Peter. He knew about all of them. He would see them in due time. Everyone saw The Pennyman. Well, they did not see him, he thought, The Pennyman saw Everyone.
He had returned three months ago, long before the explosions. He spent that time travelling the world, doing his job, his bag never getting any lighter. He just transferred it from one shoulder to the other if he needed to. He knew what Their plans were. He knew what he was doing here.
Before the disaster, he had been busy, but after the explosions, at least now, even though humanity was so much thinner, even though the world was still smoking, he was busier. He had taken that first day off, just enjoyed the walk to his next destination. There was not enough left of anyone to scrape up, let alone put obols on. Business began to pick up after that though, as the Others, began their reign of terror, as the remaining people began to realize that they had to survive. That they had to fight to survive.
He knew the score. He knew what was coming. The Ancients, one calling himself Graham now, were coming, their claws scratching to the surface. The Ancients were coming. The war was coming. And something was going to burn. He was ready. His bag was full. Clink. Clink. Clink.
Sara was next. She had died of a heart attack. Natural deaths still occurred, but they were rare.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
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Labels: Hollow World