THREE BROTHERS ⋅ A NEW GOD ⋅ CITY OF SALT ⋅ LAKE OF DREAMS ⋅ SUSPENDED! ⋅ THE TWO STREETS ⋅ ON THE EDGE OF THE MARSHS ⋅ BLACKSUN ⋅ DEMON ⋅ GAZELLE ⋅ THE HARDRIIM ⋅ RIDER ⋅ THE FLYER ⋅ ARABIAN NIGHTS ⋅ THE EMPTY MIRROR ⋅ THE SOLDIER ⋅ THE BICYCLE ⋅ THE CROCODILE ⋅ THE THREE TRAVELERS ⋅ OCEANSONG ⋅ THE FLUTE ⋅ THE TREE ⋅ THE TOWER

My name is not Atlantis. My shores are dry, my houses parched, and my children now rejoice over foreign waters. The guests here are few and do not stay for long: there is not enough water here; let them go elsewhere to find water. Once there was a smithy, who tempered steel in the ash of subsurface volcanoes; he was pleased at how easy it could be to cool the straining metal in the currents that surrounded his shop. Once he scalded an eel while doing this, and wept, and ate the eel. But he, too, has forgotten my name; his shop lies abandoned. So there were fish here once: yes, schools swam through the streets of my youth. But they receded with the dying ocean, and now, in the desert, my tears well up alone. Do not remind me of what was and is not; do not lament your lost lovers and the destiny of your empty jug. The waters are gone, soothing though they were; my domes are broken, and I am unnamed: neither Atlantis, nor City, nor anything besides. -home-