From the introduction: Is there beauty in death? In BleakStone City I was forced to reconsider my thoughts on the subject. The ancient ruins of this once glorious ivory city stretch for miles, made almost entirely of bleached marble. A solemn defiant beauty still clings to the ruins, somehow echoed in the stumps and torn down facades. Everywhere I see traces of life-changing art beyond my wildest imagination. I had entered another world. The wind stirred up the fine white dust; I covered my mouth and nose and pressed on. I wished for rain. I was unable to shake the sensation of being watched.