audio file 1: 03/12/66
Extent: 1 Of 52 Audio Files (.Mp3)
Archivist: Residual
Language Of Material: English
Dates: 2021-2022

the sunset’s dull glow stretches along the mists of the afternoon. i have retired to my studies before the swarms arrive at nightfall. i can practically hear their little legs scratching at the door now, droning in a frenzy between the sandy crests, having yet to reach the valley.

what is left of the orange disk of sun sinks behind the horizon. spring is emerging. the days grow longer, and i can lower the shutters much later in the evenings, which i am thankful for. but i dread the dull heat that is to come. when not even the shadows can grant me haven.

but one must laugh to keep from crying. if not laugh, at least to enjoy. and even if my work might be arbitrary at this point, i take pride in revisiting the past, that comforting doom that laid on their shoulders, as if they were waiting for the great event to finally happen.

it’s sad, they never noticed that it already had.

but im not here to talk of boiling toads. i am here to work, to archive. for who i am not sure, but perhaps if the ghosts out there in the sands reach the doors before the swarms, they shall remember their lives from before.

until then, i must remember for them.