Thursday, September 10, 2009


They come from every corner of the aquapolis. From every walk of life and caste they come. Everyone, the nurse, the manual laborer, the outdoorsman, the grandmother, and the ingenue, they all come for the same reason. Equipped as they are with their various temperaments and outlooks upon life—a complete society in all its abundance and variety—they come to Sweetwater's for the opportunity it affords them to die.

This unites every strand of the piscine world. No matter their nature, no matter their occupation, no matter the niggling details that create their very individuality, they all seek to join that vast congregation of indistinct sameness, that seamless hive occupied by the dead.

And so, they swarm the sunken wreck known as Sweetwater's, their promised land, gateway to their blessed afterlife, where they can finally discard their burdensome identities—those absurd trappings of the living—and die. Where they can shed their status as separate beings and enter that great horde of sacred matter.

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