The first reply may differ with earlier choices. Follow a line to read the full scene.
Suddenly there's a sigh, carried on the molecules around you, moving, flowing from high pressure to low pressure. Like that of a woman emptying her lungs. She wraps the collapsing stone box in front of you in her breath, flowing through it...
Even though you're sure you succeeded, all is quiet. There is no cold hand brushing against your forehead, no rustle in the reeds -- the wind has died down. The ruin in front of you is silent as a tomb.
For what? God? God is very, very silent. Too silent. Even the wind seems tired...
For what? A song carried on the breeze? Or children laughing, far away? You walk and walk these city streets and deserted coast, and all it ever tells you -- is cold.
A breeze, like a quiet sigh, moves over you. The cool air breaks across your body. It brings the salt of the sea into your lungs.
Suddenly, all is quiet. There is no cold hand brushing against your forehead, no rustle in the reeds. The wind has died down, or gone behind a corner? You only hear distant waves washing the coast.
