Riddle's End

"So the Ghost Wind riddle ended much as it began. The SF Sailors tossed the brick overboard, claiming it to be a perfect cubit. Did it flip like a coin on the way to its final rest upon the soaked ground below? Frankly, we had lost interest already, as, in a way, it was all bricks already. Evening approached rapidly, and so did our True Rest- The one piece of this maelstrom where we might be ourselves, without second guessing, without interference, without cultural inhibition falsely imposed on men who had disavowed any home port of call. The Bard's Clock simply started operating of its own accord, a thought all that was ever needed to initiate its spark. Despite extreme scrutiny, there was simply nothing left for our enemies to learn, so they set like the sun, never to be seen again, at least not in the same way twice.

- The End"