While strolling through a cavernous building, I came upon a memorial for the creator of Camel cigarettes. A huge, circular room made of red and black stone. One had to follow a spiral staircase down to the platform bearing a plaque in his honor. The story was about a modest fishing lure salesman got into a bar fight and was entranced by a thug's tobacco. The founder made it his mission to create more of these cigarettes and spread their use throughout the world because smoking would remind people of the fires of perdition keeping them chaste and fearful of God or simply prepare them for a more pleasant experience in Hell because they're already accustomed to the brimstone.

Turns out that Mr. Camel was still alive and was amassing an infernal army to march across the world and to slay anything which could be divine. His fatal sin was being the last cigarette producer to provide filters, health warnings and expiration dates on his product's packages. In fact when expiration dates became mandatory, he had his workers use pens to write them on each and every cigarette produced. An onerous and cumbersome act. Plus the expiration dates were questionable since no one really knew when the cigarettes were made or if the determining equation for expiration dates would be correct. Since everyone in Hell believes they lived a good life and do not deserve damnation but Mr. Camel had the drive and the resentment to attempt revolution against his former God.

Soon the entire complex was full of milling, grumbling souls. One woman caught my attention to tell me about how the Camel legions of Hell were the fiercest and have never lost a battle against angels and their lot. She rambled on and on about how a single hellknight could take out an army of His valkyries by swinging his sword in a circle escaping without a scratch. An anecdote regarding two women warriors who decimated one of God's platoons after their friends had abandoned them. Now it was time for the final battle.

That's when I took to kissing stained glass windows. A whisper in my ear said I could kiss a stained glass window of an angel and it would come alive like Pygmalion's lover. So I'd kiss the various frames of windows representing beautiful angels to no avail. While searching for more windows, I saw there were many other people who were engaged in the same act but were far more desperate in the execution.

The final battle quickly arrived with the re-enactment of that woman's stories, regular humans being cut to pieces by hell's soldiers and being immediately condemned without judgement for their actions in life or if those individuals had accepted any aspect of God. I couldn't get that worked up over the battle. They're always going to fight. No one is ever going to realize the futility of the situation and they were making their own hell and perpetuating it amongst themselves even the divine ones.

I found myself back home on the patio at twilight. Someone had installed a huge brass deadlock on the screen door. Pretty useless considering someone could just cut the screen or shatter the glass and gain entry. Plus all the doors were open except the screen door so I figured Spot was safe and sound. There were some books waiting for me, one was the ultimate dictionary regarding Vampires published by White Wolf. The only article I remember was about a virus that rained down on earth when Saturn was at perihelion and caused humans to need blood for sustenance. The virus looked like four balls radially attached to a stick, two opposite balls were a dark yellow and the other pair were dark purple. The stick was a light green but far from being fluorescent.

Night came quickly and the sky was full of glowing clouds. To the west, the moon was giving light to the clouds. To the east was light pollution that was so extreme that it rivalled the full moon. I stood against the fence between the house and the meth clinic when the new neighbor came outside.
"Look at the sky!" I yelled over to her. Something was going on that required me to raise my voice to be heard. I doubt it was the part in her apartment.
"What?" She looked up then at me as if she wasn't impressed.
That's when I knew, "You're from back east, eh?"
"Virginia" she yelled back at me and went back inside.

Suddenly the sky brightened up again as if the day wasn't through as far as the sun was concerned. Fortunately it was only a return to more twilight than a noonday sky.

Looking west was an amazing astronomical sight. The sun was setting and appeared to be much smaller than normal even taking atmospheric refraction and the moon illusion into account. Immediately to the south was a crescent moon and another crescent moon. The latter moon was something completely new and smaller. Its surface was darker like lunar maria with very few light spots. Even further to the southeast was a small, bright star shining through the haze. Reckon this was the source of the light for the crescent moons. I ran into my apartment for my camera. Within the minute I was gone, everything had set further making for a difficult shot. So I ran around the neighborhood looking for a good vantage point to take the pictures.

Eventually I got my pictures. They weren't that good but something is better than nothing. Coming back home I ran into raddidge. Immediately I showed her the camera and urged her to flip through the pictures. She sat on the ground and the pictures turned out much better than I had remembered them! That's when I noticed that a column of ants was marching across her right thigh towards the street. Each ant was carrying something white like a straw wrapper or piece of tissue. raddidge seemed oblivious to the marching legs on her skin. When I finally got her attention, she shrugged at me. One of the ants was carrying a twenty dollar bill and two ten dollar bills. I squealed at raddidge to hurry up and take the money because she needed it. Because she snatched at it so quickly, the ten got free and I snagged it for myself.

As I walked back home again, I saw there were black filing cabinets in the street. There was a big black ten gallon hat on top of one of the filing cabinets. Someone was putting graves on the roadside.

The End.