Thomas Moran Zion Valley, South Utah

Thomas Moran Zion Valley, South UtahThomas Moran The Wilds of Lake SuperiorThomas Moran Sunset on the MoorThomas Moran Moonlit Seascape
. . .'
Through the mists of his exhausted mind Rincewind remembered the horrible star they'd seen in the sky. Something had gone wrong with the universe last night.
How had he come to be back on the Disc?
He had a feeling that the answers were somewhere inside his head. And an even more unpleasant feeling began to dawn on .
'Rincewind,' said a voice. Rincewind had never heard a lizard speak, but if one did it would have a voice like that.
'Um,' he said. 'Yes?'
The voice chuckled – a strange sound, rather papery. him that something else was watching the scene below – watching it from behind his eyes.The Spell had crept from its lair deep in the untrodden dirtroads of his mind, and was sitting bold as brass in his forebrain, watching the passing scene and doing the mental equivalent of eating popcorn.He tried to push it back – and the world vanished . . .He was in darkness; a warm, musty darkness, the darkness of the tomb, the velvet blackness of the mummy case. There was a strong smell of old leather and the sourness of ancient paper. The paper rustled.He felt that the darkness was full of unimaginable horrors – and the trouble with unimaginable horrors was that they were only to easy to imagine . .