I found myself on the shores of Hades, how I got here, i do not remember. A fog of forgetfulness engulfed me as my feet felt the icy chill of the river Styx. Somehow I arrived at the in between, a place of void, no pain, fear, or light, just empty dark cold. Even that did not register with me. Me? is there even a me anymore? From across the dense nothingness a distant light appeared, slicing through the soup of forgetting, I heard the wooden hull groan against the current, the oars gliding across the waters. Charon is coming for me. The journey though the underworld is calling my name, time for my judgement, have I earned? Do I deserve? Then I saw him, the ferryman, a hooded figure darker then the void it came from, holding a staff and lantern, floating closer, coming to take me to the land of departed. But alas, it seems my hour of demise was without coin. Returning me to pain was my punishment.
An awkward attempt of organizing the post its, half filled note books, napkins, prose, poems, short stories, and other madness rattling around in my head