meempants

So here we are. The gates of Babylon. At long last. Twenty years was all it took. A long drive nonetheless.

Sand. And other things. But the sand is what you notice. And sound. Wind. Music out of the black all around. Generators humming.

This will sound familiar, eventually, once I get started. But don't worry about that. You've heard it before, why shouldn't I tell it again? It's still a good story. It always is. We never tire of it.

In short: Boy leaves home. Boy meets girl. Boy's head explodes into little bits. Girl disappears. Boy has to figure out how to put it back together again. No help from the king.

That gets us here, where I'm not, in the desert, beneath the flames. Boy looking for proper head-glue, and trying to shake the girl-bit of the aforementioned little bits of head. That one's stayed intact; it sticks like a barnacle to a rusted hull.

So. Proper barnacle-busting hammer. Proper glue. Two things.

Start digging.