Page 6 (The child has opened the book again) INDISS: Hark. (Closing the book with one enormous hand, scattering the dried flowers) Look not too closely, girl. CHILD: I want to hear the voice, Indiss! INDISS: (holding the book) I’m sorry. It isn’t fair. But we live beyond the end of such things. In the shadow of a great catastrophe. Or within its bleaching light.