To The Clouds


I’m walking through a pasture and deep in the distance I see my castle. It’s being constructed, stone by stone. The sooner I get there, the more sunlight, the higher the build.

Ahead of me a creek and a raised bridge. Below the bridge, a grotesque woman, short stature, green skin, covered in moss.

“Hi friend,” I say, “I’m here on my way to the castle. Can you lower the bridge?”

“Busy,” she secretes.

“But I received a message from you. You said I could cross.”

“Busy Now,” she secretes.

This poor creature, so traumatized. No social skills at all. She wants so badly to let me cross yet she tortures herself. Poor thing.

I grunt and walk the shoreline. When the creek narrows I cross.

The next bridge, I see another grotesque woman. “Busy,” she secretes.

I mutter this poor animal and I trudge through the water.

Finally I arrive at the castle, clothes drenched. A moat to cross.

“Howdy ho,” I shout. In the moat wall, a small 3 ft, 3 ft cube is cut out of the wall. Inside a grotesque woman.

“Busy,” she secretes.

I grab some lumber, start building my own ladder to climb across. I remember a time in my life where I too secreted. I used to be crazy busy too. Once I hurt someone who I adored. I didn’t show up to date-night because I was busy.

I stand, return to the moat.

“Hi, I get it,” The green woman’s skin had whitened, not a blemish on her as she hangs her legs off the edge. “I too have been crazy busy before. I’ll build my own bridge. If you find time, I would love to use yours.”

Her hand on her chest, she looks at me. Tears swell. The bridge lowers.

My duty begins.