I sat beneath a withered tree in a dry and barren landscape composed of dull sepia tones. It was a still, dead land in which no wind stirred the brown leaves limply hanging from my tree. Dry soil, like dust, and ashes on the wind. I was eating, eating something hard and splintery. When I looked down, I discovered I was eating tiny, but otherwise perfect human skulls. And the horror of what I was doing did not strike me for a long while.
