I watch the heron in the centre of the river. I stalk the heron with my seering eyes as it soars over the still waters where the fishes gather.
I see the river, standing where I am at the edge of the bank. I plunge a steep dive into the water. And the base of the river is lined with skulls and the skulls a calling my name they have so many stories to tell.
A blue skull bites off my head and my body is carried away downstream. The blue skull chomps on my eyes and brain, chomping and chomping. I am reconstituted inside this new blue skull and we float downstream bobbing on the water to the bank where my body is waiting patiently, drifting in the shallows, passive and peaceful.