Immortality and Annihilation

He touched the temple wall and his palms were stained with purple ashes. The ash seeped into the palm prints and could not be rubbed away no matter how hard it was rubbed. The sky in Arcadia is purple, the air is thicker than Earth, and time sinks in your knees. He picked up a piece of scrap iron at the entrance of the alley - the iron piece refused to warm, and the air around it retreated by half a millimeter. There was a sound of hammering at the end of the alley. The rhythm is irregular. The pause position is wrong. The blacksmith is not happy today. Six parts, interweaving of light and dark lines, giving priority to narrative with physical evidence, seeking the world inwardly