The Next Life
I'm sleeping on a velvet tartan rug on a white pewter chair in a tiny garden. There's a bird house in the corner, where bluebirds and starlings and robin redbreasts sing songs of freedom as they steal their share of nuts and seeds scattered within. In the middle of the emerald-green grass sits a fishpond filled with carp and roe, that often steals my attention for hours, as I sit and contemplate what water is, occasionally dipping my paw into the pool at the fishy reflections below that I can never reach. Are they real or just a dream, above me or below me?
The Shadow Underneath Us
Curiosity is a strange beast indeed. If we were never compelled to explore the darkest regions of this world, to open the mystery box, or investigate the eerie noises that fill the night, it’s certain we wouldn’t be where we all are today. Every waking minute the mind is hungry for the unknown. It fills with a longing to be filled. But you can never fully fill it. That you could say was my first revelation, and even in good intention it was nevertheless a step on the road to darker dreams.