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The following contribution by FloydWaters is not exactly a commentary, but in it's own way it is.
Since it is my intention to share our thoughts on Roger's works....this is not in conflict with that intent. This is in fact what FloydWaters did get from Roger's lyrics----and that is exactly the theme of this website. Not my own pre-conceived notions of what a person should see or get from Roger's lyrics/music, but your's...*



The Meeting of Two Sons in the Sunset

A short story by FloydWaters based on "Two Suns in the Sunset" (The Final Cut)
Nuclear terror contrasts with a hauntingly touching vision that brings The Final Cut--and some old wounds--to closure for the narrator. Warning: it will not make sense if you are not familiar with "Two Suns in the Sunset," and I suggest being familiar with the whole of The Final Cut.


The Meeting of Two Sons in the Sunset
By FloydWaters


Coming home after a long and particularly stressful gig, I can’t help the terrible sense of finality creeping up my spine--warning me of a future that I cannot refuse...but I already feel the anguish that lies in wait for me. It’s not going to be easy. I think I ought to be a bit more angered by this premonition...but a strange sense of calm--of resignation--has descended over me. There’s something more to it that I can’t seem to identify.

Alone in my car, I sing softly to myself, hoping that I can find a way to understand what is happening to me, what exactly it is that I’m feeling. I sneak a glance at the landscape behind me...the contours of the hills sharpened by the blazing colours of the sun setting, the silhouette of an overpass cutting directly across the great sphere itself.

My mind wanders as I travel down this straight, unvarying road, letting the cruise control do most of the work for me. I meander through the past and through futures that will never be (how can I know this? What does this finality mean ), seeing the smiling faces of my family and my friends--each one stabbing into my mind with a pain that I can hardly comprehend...for there are so many things that I’d like to change. I could’ve made it better, if I’d known what I know now...all the opportunities I’ve missed---I should be home with my children right now, teaching them to smile, giving them everything that I wished for when I was young...rather than gallivanting around the world playing to the same audience every night. I should be home with my wife, showing her the love that so few seem to realise is always there, overflowing from my heart...and I should...no. I sigh. It’s over now.

I shiver for a moment. There is that sense again, like the clangour of an alarm far off in the distance, warning me...warning me...of what? It’s not just me, I think. Something terrible is about to happen. All of the hate that we carry...that I carry...is about to come to a head. This is it.

And still, I feel so strangely relaxed---I haven’t an ounce more stress in my body than I need, and my mind is beginning to clear of all the needless clutter, the painful remembrances of things that I cannot bring back. For a second, I smile, not understanding why. Because this is your last chance to be happy, something tells me. This place, this vacant road, is so ordinary...but so beautiful...don’t you see what you’ve missed?

But then---directly in front of me---comes a soundless flash that stabs into my eyes, cuts straight through me...as if another Sun blazed to life in the east. (When you see the flash...) And in that moment, everything seems to freeze as I realise... (...duck and cover!)

I don’t know how long or short a moment it was---but suddenly, abject terror breaks through the seraphic calm, and time starts running again at a horrifyingly rapid pace. I barely have the time to think as I slam on the brakes, whip the car around in a crazy, futile manoeuvre, hit the accelerator, trying to outrace the spreading shock wave (When you see the flash...!) speeding toward me...I scream wordlessly, though in my mind I shout the names of my children, hearing them calling out desperately for me...daddy, daddy! Oh, God, my little darlings---duck and cover!---but I’ll never see you again...!

And I feel, for just a second, tears forming in my eyes...just before the searing heat burns through the windshield, through---me...

But just as quickly as it hit, it is...over...

My eyes fly open suddenly---I’m sprawled out on the tarmac (or...the melted mess that is left of the tarmac), starting as I realise that nothing is the same as it was. And what’s more, I can’t understand how it is that I’m seeing all of this after the passage of that terrible, radiant wavefront: did I not feel it, even if I only knew the pain for just an instant, tear straight through my body? Here I am, clad exactly as I was before, but how can that be? I felt the burning...

I try to pick myself up from the scorched earth, part of my mind suggesting that I ought to be feeling some sort of aftereffect from the blast, but feeling nothing except the heaviness in my heart...the knowledge that I did not make it in time, that I never had the chance to make things right. Having made it to my knees, it all catches up with me and I double over, dissolving into an maniacal, sardonic, teary-eyed sort of laughter at the thought of the great leveller...we are all (ha!) equal now, equal (ha, ha!) in death (ha, ha, HAH!). This only lasts for a few minutes, as the shock of this realisation begins to wear off. The insane laughter disappears now---leaving me alone with my tears.

As I kneel here, I dip my hand into the ashes of my existence, and staring at the fine black powder that---in another time---bound me to this earth, the realisation comes to me again, but more sober this time, more sombre. These burnt remnants...composed of carbon...are diamonds not of the same element? And the tune from earlier revives itself in my mind: Ashes and diamonds...foe and friend...we were all equal in the end... I feel a warm breeze, strangely peaceful, moving over the area, and I stand, lifting my hand to the sky, inviting the wind to carry the ashes out of my palm. But is it me, or do some of them as they drift away, glint in the setting sun as though they were...jewels?

With a sigh, hardly knowing what I am doing, I begin to walk slowly, despondently, towards my original destination, as if, upon arriving, I might have a chance to undo the things that I have done. How pointless it all seems now, all the hate, all the squabbling...my children need their father now more than ever. And I stop suddenly---I feel that prickling sensation down the back of my neck (which shouldn’t exist) once again...I haven’t got much time left here; somehow I know that. And oddly enough, that serene wave of peace slips gently over my mind once again. I continue my walk as if taking a stroll through the park, simply waiting for whatever it is to come to me.

And then...silhouetted against the sun, I catch sight of a figure standing there, waiting---for me. Without a word exchanged, I know this. I break into a smile---for I am not alone! It does not matter to me who it is (we are all equal in the end...)---only that I am not alone. A tear courses down my cheek, navigating its way around my smile, but I see no reason to wipe it away. I shade my eyes, trying to make out some sort of detail, but all I can see is that he is gesturing for me to come nearer. Speeding up my stride, I work my way towards him, towards the inviting smile I can now make out on his face. There is something so familiar...if I could only recognise...! Suddenly, compelled by something I can hardly comprehend, I break into a run and fling myself into his arms, sobbing and laughing all at once. And, despite my being a rather tall man, even a bit taller than him, I think, I somehow feel very small in this embrace---and I like it this way...like a son in the arms of...

I gasp, and try to stutter out a greeting, but find my tongue quite unable to cooperate. Waves of anguish and love vie for control of my heart, my tears soaking into the shoulder of his uniform. Those eyes, that I could only picture in a black-and-white photograph...looking with full colour into mine... And then...he speaks as if comforting a small child---how small I feel, how wonderful this is, to be able to give all of my cares to someone who will comfort me: "Shhh...don’t you worry...it’s going to be all right, son..." And we begin to make our way out of this blasted landscape, away from the horror. And for the first time, I know I have nothing to fear as it fades away...



More by FloydWaters?
Amused To Death: A Mind Trip





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