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Andfromthatstricken,far-awayspothehadseensomethingfeeblyrise,onlytosinkdownagainupontheplacefromwhichthegreatshapelesshorrorhadshotintothesky.Itwasjustacolour—butnotanycolourofourearthorheavens.AndbecauseAmmirecognisedthatcolour,andknewthatthislastfaintremnantmuststilllurkdownthereinthewell,hehasneverbeenquiterightsince.
Ammiwouldnevergoneartheplaceagain.Itisoverhalfacenturynowsincethehorrorhappened,buthehasneverbeenthere,andwillbegladwhenthenewreservoirblotsitout.Ishallbeglad,too,forIdonotlikethewaythesunlightchangedcolouraroundthemouthofthatabandonedwellIpassed.Ihopethewaterwillalwaysbeverydeep—butevenso,Ishallneverdrinkit.IdonotthinkIshallvisittheArkhamcountryhereafter.ThreeofthemenwhohadbeenwithAmmireturnedthenextmorningtoseetheruinsbydaylight,buttherewerenotanyrealruins.Onlythebricksofthechimney,thestonesofthecellar,somemineralandmetalliclitterhereandthere,andtherimofthatnefandouswell.SaveforAmmi’sdeadhorse,whichtheytowedawayandburied,andthebuggywhichtheyshortlyreturnedtohim,everythingthathadeverbeenlivinghadgone.Fiveeldritchacresofdustygreydesertremained,norhasanythingevergrowntheresince.Tothisdayitsprawlsopentotheskylikeagreatspoteatenbyacidinthewoodsandfields,andthefewwhohaveeverdaredglimpseitinspiteoftheruraltaleshavenamedit“theblastedheath”.
Theruraltalesarequeer.
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