It was the fisherman. It was a confrontation between two great evils; one a tyrannical dictator, the other a peaceful fisherman… No, he was the warden of a great prison or something like that. Either way, neither was better than the other. One almost chose the rock to become a part of a bridge while sacrificing its stone brethren. The other forced the rock to watch over his prison net thingy. If one were to choose the better one, it would be the worker for recognizing its greatness and not doing anything to it, even freeing the rock from watching over the prison.

At this moment, the old fisherman looked at the rock with a frown, as if it heard my narration. However, it’s attention quickly switched to something behind him. Maybe the youth that normally comes with him. Then again, maybe I was too harsh? After all, the old fisherman only comes once a week and treats the stones and the rock as underlings or prisoners rather than reshaping and conforming them. It’s the classic case of which evil is preferable.

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The two of them began talking with each other. They were both confused about the situation. The fisherman tried to be calm but explosive anger was hidden beneath his skin, crawling about and lashing out occasionally. The worker, on the other hand, with his axe, was obviously superior. Yet, he backed away in guilt. He did destroy his prison for no reason. The worker felt he was at fault, a deadly weakness for a dictator.

Meanwhile, the rock lied at the edge of the river. It sat upon a bank and the bank was shifting under its weight. The rock wanted to do something about this situation and the earth itself decided to grant this wish. A few pebbles fell into the river, making a splashing sound, foreshadowing what might happen next. The two evils paused to glance at the river, curious about the sound. The rock was slipping; it was at the edge of what might as well be a cliff. Literally, as it was about to fall off a drop. Metaphorically, because this is where the chapter ends.