The mud of Shame sticks to those who cross its marsh. Hulking monsters live here, faces dripping mud.
They stalk passersby on two legs, four, or eight.
Small creatures drown in the mud and leave their bones.
The noxious air chokes. The gray mud roils and burps sulfur gases.
Bare trees weep from the sidelines.
The marsh goes on and on.
"If anyone gets in, who finds their way out?" asks the Guide.
From the mud marsh Shame terraced marble steps lead up and down to Guilt, an open marble platform surrounded by marble statues, worn, mud-stained, and pulled from the muck.
"There was civilization here long ago before the waters rose, filled, and buried it in muck," says the Guide.
Only the marble platform, on the Hill of Guilt remains. Travelers comes to see the ruins.
"We didn't listen when the waters rose," says one. "We thought we could live underwater and become marvelous beings. Maybe, we thought, we belonged in water all along. Instead, we were buried in flowing earth. It never freed us."
"Mostly the tragedy can be forgotten," says the Guide. "Except in this place which exists to remember."
There isn’t room enough for all the visitors. They arrive by mud river boats and squeeze onto the platform.
"Don't fall off into the mud," the Guide warns.
The tourists stare at the mud fields and sigh with regret.
"If anyone gets in, who finds their way out?" asks the Guide.
From the mud marsh Shame terraced marble steps lead up and down to Guilt, an open marble platform surrounded by marble statues, worn, mud-stained, and pulled from the muck.
"There was civilization here long ago before the waters rose, filled, and buried it in muck," says the Guide.
Only the marble platform, on the Hill of Guilt remains. Travelers comes to see the ruins.
"We didn't listen when the waters rose," says one. "We thought we could live underwater and become marvelous beings. Maybe, we thought, we belonged in water all along. Instead, we were buried in flowing earth. It never freed us."
"Mostly the tragedy can be forgotten," says the Guide. "Except in this place which exists to remember."
There isn’t room enough for all the visitors. They arrive by mud river boats and squeeze onto the platform.
"Don't fall off into the mud," the Guide warns.
The tourists stare at the mud fields and sigh with regret.
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