The dead were waiting, and I felt their soulless, unblinking eyes upon me. The sand streamed from the broken hourglass, fading away in the breeze. I looked over the valley, and off toward the city. The rains were ended, and a rainbow haloed that forgotten place. The crumbling ruin stood against the clear sky with an emblazoned aura of color about it.
I had seen the city, and I would die. The dead were waiting for me, and my time was running short. One last trick, I thought, and caught some of the falling sand in my palm. I blew the sand with my breath into the air, watching the golden grains fly into heaven. I made a wish, praying someone would hear.
And then my hour was up, and death reclaimed me.
Tale Told 