She dreamed of him, his face, filling the dream. "Things are ending," he told her. "This civilization; things are closing in on it. It has been quite a culture, brilliant and foul, cannibal and Christian, the glory of the world. We should celebrate it while we can; until night falls."She didn't agree, not even in the dream, but she knew, as she dreamed, that there was no point telling him now.
In the dream, she envisioned a man whose face was profound and captivating. He articulated a sense of impending doom, suggesting that their civilization was nearing its end. He painted a picture of a culture that was both magnificent and corrupt, embodying a mix of light and darkness. His message was one of urgency, prompting a celebration of their current existence before it all fades away.
Despite his compelling words, she remained unconvinced, even in her dream state. Deep down, she felt a resistance to acknowledge his belief in the inevitable decline of their world. She understood that voicing her disagreement would be futile, as the dream's nature afforded her no power to change his perspective.
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All the things you can talk about in anyone's work are the things that are least important.
Race of Cain, ascend to heaven, And cast God down upon the earth!
