EPILOGUE

When we left SFW she was standing exposed at the edge of time, post-epiphany, readying for her journey from the real to the unreal, jawal in hand, the Dubai World Archipelago in sight. She had already faded to little more than a shadow by the time she made it to the korniche. You were introduced to her as eyes without a face. She had amassed a key on her jawal, a meager Rosetta stone of files to leave behind. Each only a tiny fragment of her story or any story that could be told of the Gulf. By the time this key was complete, her body had already experienced its apocalypse, and she had been waiting in limbo for her mind to follow and eventually it did. The collapse/explosion that occurred when she disappeared with the rest of her people was not recorded. There was no final transmission, no fleeting last Bluetooth message to authenticate her exit, she was just gone, leaving only a dead and locked Nokia N95 rocking in the dust.