-7-8-
Trigun #0 HIGH NOON AT JULY
a debris riddled canyon runs as far as the eye can see. from
the broken windows, chunks of wall, and the rare bits big enough to be recognizable
as having been buildings scattered about, one can tell that there once stood
a town, perhaps a city. bright and remorseless, a blazing sun glares down on
a single shrouded figure huddled atop the highest pile of wreckage --
-9-10-
gazing at the destruction. an observer, were there to be a survivor in the
ruins, could surmise that he was forlorn, or perhaps grieving. nothing else
is discernable, however, as the wind that rips through the giant trench blows
his ragged and torn cloak about him so fiercely that only the lower part of
his face and a shock of blond hair remain visible for any length of time. who
he is, and why he's there-- that's anybody's guess.
-11-
In a yet unseen time beyond the past, in a far distant place…
The song of humanity, still sung.