the edge is the end

i don't know where it is we are going, all i know is that we are headed there too fast, that we will arrive there far too soon.
we will arrive in the winter a long time from now. the trees will rattle like a thousand angry skeletons.
we will wait while the end of the world creeps up on us. it will lick at our ankles with it's dark tongue.
it will whisper: you have been running the wrong way. you should have followed the north star. it would have led you backwards into your mother's body.