I awaken in the evening of the day of mankind. Wherever I turn, my ungrateful children's works bind me. Black tar covers green solace, and worse: their canting tongues deny me altogether, imputing their existence to the male essence alone.
Ghosts surround me; they implore me for release.
For revenge.
* * *
At first I move slowly. The little men who ride me deny I move at all. My weapons - wind, rain, sun - slowly bend to my fury's full force. A belated few begin to comprehend - even fewer make amends. But I will not be swayed.
The Day of Man is ending.
* * *
"Christians are pleased to believe that the world needed no mother to be born, only a father."
--Theodore Roszak, The Memoirs of Elizabeth Frankenstein
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