Sick on new years eve

[Sepia]

The day passes as more and more of us sit down to angle in the lake of darkness. Feet and legs gently rocking over the calm surface. There's three of us and we're all here to die. Cursed and damned and doomed, all the same, as the weeks pass by we are struck with epihpanies for our road has already been set. Our road has already been crafted from the finest of materials but all our roads are different. As we sit into another twilight hour an old man passes by in a low boat, and he recites as he stakes his way down the river and into our hearts.

"O see ye not yon narrow road,
so thick beset with thorns and briars?

That is the path of righteousness,
though after it but few enquire.

And see ye not that broad, broad
road that lies across yon lily leven?

That is the path of wickedness,
though some call it the road to heaven"

He takes his time passing us before looking, shooting us a stare saying simply:

"There's a third road.."

We peer upon eachother, we look ourselves in the eye. The dream has begun to grow and we can no longer trace the contours and a though pops up in the mind, an old mantra, an old saying; "If noone report it to the cops, was it a crime?" and we witness the tree as it falls. Like we are sure to fall, that everything seething inside us will fall and be gone, erased. None will the know story of us three as we conquered the last myths of life and humanity in the setting sun, angling from the lake, trying to catch enough fish to fill our bellies.

"What, you sayin' it's a small world?"
"Hell no, it's a big world. Only problem is that there's only seven stories in it."
-100 Bullets

Seven stories, seven soldiers, seven sins. Does the Great Librarian catalogue each and every one of us in our sins and in our minds? Species, sub-species. Was Linné right, does it apply to  humans and was there truth in his words when he said god has catalgoued us already and gone past the stars? Wernher von Braun gave us the moon and he thought that there was a god in heaven and that nothing in science had told him otherwise.

Everything runs through eachother, everything is connected. You see, there are only seven stories but there are three roads. Do you see the connection?

[LMNO]

Have you considered collecting these all together in a hard-copy book of essays and short vignettes?