Swirling waters in the deep, calling to the men whose bodies
bob above them. Stay away, they cry, this is our domain. We hold it by right of
birth, by element and by virtue. No one can take our solitude from us.
Nevertheless, before long the bodies begin to sink, dropping
down into the depths of the whirlpool like flies in watered-down honey. The
waters cry out in rage, gnashing their currents against each other, burbling
their fury at this violation of their refuge. But the men sink still, their
unseeing eyes ignorant of the fear and rage around them.
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