A fairly special one for me this week, as today’s post is inspired by what would have been the time of Beltane celebrations. As it is, we celebrated at home in our own little ways, and in the case of myself indulging in my usual habits! Drinking and of course drawing, the usual stuff...
This is chucky I am terrified of it but it was an challenge this is my first time here so I am learning the ropes so I have no clue what I am doing but this gave me major chills while making it
my new work! - Here he is, he comes! - Pepe Fajgl said, pointing at the top of the hill.
The environment was typical for the territory of a mortician: valleys overgrown with low grass, and with some high ground. Pepe Fajgl and I left the corpse Henri de Functa at the foot of the hills and watched the Mortician as it approaches the dead body at a uniform speed, his beautiful eyes were fixed to the deceased.
"It's wonderful," I said to Pepe, - it is certainly longer than 20 meters. -
The Morticians are the beings that all the inhabitants of the World of Fantasies respect and love, since they have appeared, the precious earth is no longer polluting with graves and cemeteries, number of burning corpses and then a terrible smell almost came to zero, pollution of the lake and the sea throwing the dead into the water stopped. After Mrs. Death takes life and the soul went away
in the wheel of the final verdict, it remains only material, dead, a bit valuable part once alive being, the meat that becomes a problem for family and community.
Mortician comes to the dead body of the late Henri, its enormous mouth silently sucked corpse, he turned, and dignity went behind the elevation, the problem was solved forever.
A 3 format
To be taken away, for with sickness unveil a composed struggle within this life. Lad take creature into the hills of forest brew in hopes of a better life. A last glimpse of her, then, nothing.
The cardboard sleeve in which my year 12 mathematics textbook lives, not sure if the teacher knows it's there, no cardboard cover goes unscathed not while there's a pen in my hand and a song in my heart.... the hills are aliiivve with the sound of muuus
