Realm of the Dead

I found myself suddenly on a bridge. I stood there for just a moment. Taking in the atmosphere. I was standing on a bridge in the middle of a lake. The air tastes like early morning. I couldn’t see the end of the bridge, both ends were shrouded in fog. As I looked out to the lake I could see some large ripples appearing, moving fast towards me.

As the ripples came closer I could make out a large, shapely body beneath the water. The creature beneath the water suddenly launched its large body unto the rails, balancing precariously with its huge weight. It looked at me thoughtfully for one moment, came to a decision, then hopped onto the pavement right in front of me, shaking the bridge slightly.

“Tell me about yourself.” The creature bubbled, its flippers motioning as he spoke.

“I’m not sure there’s much to tell.”

“Nonsense” Its words gargled, forming foam from its mouth that slipped off its giant tusks.

“Am I dead.”

“Yes you are. Soon your heart will be weighed and judged.”

“Who are you then?”

“I guide the dead.” The huge creature posed it’s body upwards, stretching out its flippers.

“Why are you a walrus?”

“I don’t know. Why are you a human?”

“That’s actually a good point.”

“There you go.”

 

We watched the lake together. Time stood still. Does time even flow in a place like this? I heard a gargling of water come from the walrus as he began to speak again.

“So, who are you then?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grotesque Originality

I can’t make a painting ooze with emotion

I can’t make words pour like honey into your ears

I can’t make musical notes work together in communion

But

I can watch others

I watch them love

I watch them create

I watch them live

And I copy

I copy everything they do

I steal and crop parts I like

And stick them together

Showing myself off as an original

When to be honest

I don’t think I really have a self