 Moving Onby
David Andress
 Moving On In the distance where two plains collide shadow shimmers with seductive glamour faintly outlining the spine of the world as it dances like demons of flame. A man walks slowly, a figure in dust silent, determined, his boots skirt the earth he follows darkness toward unknown mountains at one with all worlds, moving on. There in the sand the boy met the man in an empty relic of eternities lost way station of truth, imagination where the speaking demon sleeps. On the trail again, the two of them into the oracle’s tortured embrace erotic prophecy of the lonely and damned three is the number of fate. Into darkness, the travelers plunge devoured by mountains, swallowed by stone, slow mutants groan dying by fire from sandalwood and steel. Through days of pitch at the end of the line a sinister silhouette tauntingly stares at a choice on which infinity hinges the Tower or the boy, the Tower… "Go then," he said as he dropped to his death the Gunslinger watched another love die for the sake of the Tower, ka can be cruel as it spins and turns through universes. The man in black, a blade of grass palaver in a place of skulls the Prisoner, Lady, Pusher revealed inside of night never ending. From golgotha to the Western Sea the last of an Order, the one who must find the Tower beyond the horizon alone in all worlds, moving on.
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