Camille Pissarro Boulevard Montmarte

Camille Pissarro Boulevard MontmarteClaude Lorrain The Rest on the Flight into EgyptPeter Paul Rubens Virgin and Child
Death took a step backwards.
It was impossible to read expression in Azrael’s features.
Death glanced sideways at the servants.
LORD,
And another finger reached out across the darkness towards the Clock. There were faint screams of rage from the servants, and then screams of realisation, and then three brief, blue flames.
All other clocks, even the handless clock of Death, were reflections of the Clock. Exactly reflections of the Clock; they told the universe what the time was, but the Clock told Time what time is. It was the mainspring from which all time poured.
And the design d the Clock was this: that the biggest hand only went around once.
The second hand whirred along a circular path that even light WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN? He waited.LORD? said Death.In the time it took to answer, several galaxies unfolded, whirled around Azrael like paper streamers, impacted, and were gone.