The remains of Iain that didn’t make it into the fire box
And still there is the going on.
What is there to say? What left to say? What remains? What is next?
For me it is to rest, for Edera it is to fly back to Japan and resume her life there. Did we have a footplate ride on that big black monster, day before yesterday? Did we hear the whistle blow as the last of the ashes were thrown into the fire box? Was that winter rain this afternoon? A chill in the air this evening? Yes all of that, and more.
How quickly what has happened, even in this day, fades in the face of a dawning tomorrow. This is as it must be. All that remains is the echo of the whistle, the sight of a falling tear.