I see the golden clouds passing by and the cinders falling from the sky. The blue is gone, replaced by the glow of flames, a rekindling of the air, to thaw out this frozen world and its unmoving, frozen non-people.
It is hot, it is painful, but it is necessary.
The collapse that brought about this stasis makes itself known again as the bodies reanimate, the problems long buried, not solved, by the ice, resuming their same trajectories. Machine eyes jitter and regain focus. Hands in the act of killing repressurise their grips.
But this time we are ready. Or we think we are.
But why? Why take this losing fight again, when we could just leave it here, frozen in stasis?
The vast intelligence that linked flame to time is here and we cannot force its hand. It must be spoken with and for that, it must be unfrozen with its horde.
Only when it is convinced, may the world spin again, and may we feel the warmth on our skin.
Paddy Dobson
5th January 2023