Chapter 80 conclusion

At dusk, he awoke. Put on your boots. Stand up straight and look around.There was a bone-pale sandy beach beneath my feet.Overhead was a cloudless blue sky.In front of you is the turquoise ocean, the waves crashing against the reefs, and then softly detoured across the sandy beach.A few strangely shaped boats are floating... It's a canoe, a canoe with a trestle. He knew...but what now? He stood up, almost not falling.The body wobbled, the head was groggy, and I felt distracted. He turned around, and a green bush suddenly appeared in front of his eyes, with dark green ivy entwined, glossy broad-leaved plants lush and lush, and pink flowers competing to bloom.

Blossoming red like the tits of a chorus girl. He was confused again. What is Chorus Girls? And what are the nipples of the chorus girls? Suddenly, a macaw flew in front of him, inexplicably bumped into the trunk of a banyan tree, turned his back to the sky, and fell to the ground to die. He was lying on his back on the table with his feet up. A meerkat died suddenly of a cerebral embolism as he watched his flushed, unshaven face. My sister came in with a spoon and a cup. A beetle staggered up the branch of a Nipah palm tree, when suddenly a blue lightning strike struck, and the flame fell between the two tentacles. With a creaking sound, its body shrank instantly, leaving only The scorched black body.

He began to taste the beetle's gravy. who am I? he does not know. where am i What happened? He staggered towards the jungle, hungry and light-headed, the sound of the sea roaring in his ears, like the sound of fighting in a crazy bloody battle.My mind was blank, as innocent as a newborn baby. Halfway through his walk, several people suddenly sprang out of the forest, three, four, and finally six. They are 6 men with brown and smooth skin. They stared at him. He glared at them too. Seeing that something is going to happen. At this time, 6 people became 12 people again.Each of them held a spear above his head in demonstration, and the man with the short beard looked at him.He was wearing cowboy clothes and cowboy boots, his upper body was as white as a carp belly, and he was pitifully thin.

The brown men raised their spears higher and higher, and one of them (the chief) was repeating a word over and over that sounded like "Whoa!" ah!It seems that something is really going to happen. Ok! Let me introduce myself first. he smiles. That kind of smile is like a red sun breaking through the dark clouds, revealing his white and bright teeth and radiant eyes.He held out his palms to them in a gesture of reconciliation. Facing his grin, the men were thrown into disarray.The spear fell on the sand, and one of them hung upside down from a tree, trembling. "Do you speak English?"

They just stare. "Do you speak Spanish?" Of course they don't, they sure don't speak fucking Spanish. What do these people mean? Where is he now? Of course, there will be a name here someday.Rome wasn't built in a day, like Akron and Ohio.It doesn't really matter where. It never matters where you stand, what matters is that you are there and still standing. "Do you speak French?" There was still no reply, and each of them just stared at him stupidly. He tried speaking in German again, and all he got was their stupid, timid laughter.One begins to sob helplessly, like a child.

They are just simple people.Primitive, innocent, without words, but I can use them.Yes, I can put them to good use. He approached them step by step, palms still outstretched, still laughing, eyes sparkling with fervent, mad joy. "My name is Randall Flagg," he said slowly but clearly, "and I'm here on a mission." They stared at him, wide-eyed, terribly frustrated, terribly bewildered. "I'm here to help you." They began to fall on their knees before him, prostrating, and his smile broke as his black figure fell between them. "I'm here to bring you into civilization!"

"Yo... what!" the leader whimpered in surprise and joy. As he kissed Randall Flagg's feet, the man in black started laughing, and couldn't stop laughing. Life is like a wheel on which no one can tread forever. It always ends up turning back to the same place. February 1975 December 1988 [-End of the book-]