Dream.

"We cannot just write off this final scene, take heed of the dream."

- The Final Cut.

I had a strange dream,

Clanking metal men, walking across a dead, solemn landscape, ashes falling through the air like snow, smoke rising into the dusky twilight.

Strange people skulking through city streets, making light where there is only nothing, seemingly, out of an equal amount of nothing.

Rows and rows of jars with brass caps, filled with a white salve. Shelves cover the grey stone walls, jars fill the shelves, and dogs sniff and snarl at the door.

Drowned souls are plucked from an ocean of black water by a giant clawed hand and a glowing woman sings to them as they are pulled into the sky one by one.

Then the feeling of horror,

Fin.