Sodom, There Within the Hand
The beast of the blackwater waits for no one. Hungry, starving, grunting — mad in sexual deviancy, devoid of purpose; what would a hammer be in his hands? Would he build a home from the burnt splinters of revelation, or would he simply crush his toes, one by one, and cry for mother? There is a redundancy here, for why should we question what the beast of the blackwater will do in his mind?