The rivers flowed on and on and on and on: there was no end to the flow of the rivers. He could not breathe, but he could not die; his lungs were filled with water, but he could not die; he had not eaten in many years, but he could not die; he swallowed only salt water, but he could not die. There was no more wealth in the world: the earth had been stripped of its wealth. There were no more stores of food or clothing or water in the world: the world was stripped of everything human. And the rivers rose and rose and rose and rose; and the earth shook and shook; and the snakes came out of their holes; and the bears came out of hiding. This was the closed time, the dreaming time, the time shut off and locked away; for the high had been humbled, the proud had been made poor. This roadway is the place of strange creatures and eternal night. This roadway only leads on into deep night, into deep darkness, into deep death. There is nothing that makes sense here: this is the crooked roadway, the confused roadway, the place where the foul is glorified and the pure disappears. You shall travel on and on, constantly doing and moving and bringing things together and separating things out: there shall be nothing else for you but doing and moving, doing and moving. Thus you shall live, thus you shall travel, in eternal weariness and fatigue, never ceasing from your doing and moving, from your bringing things together and separating things out.