The Water Bearer

It swung heavily back when he touched it, revealing a nightmare.

The room was in a shambles, furniture tumbled everywhere, lamps overturned and shattered, wet clothing strewn in improbable places.

Everything was stained with green muck. Ropes of algae, thick and mucilaginous, hung from the bed’s massive posts, draped from the fireplace mantle, festooned the paintings on the walls. Rank brown-green slime stained clothing, towels, bed sheets, the wallpaper.

The smell of wet rot hung oppressively upon the air, cloying and nauseating in its intensity.

Dr. Wilson lay stretched atop his rumpled bed, dressed in his wedding clothes--a white day jacket, black trousers, a black cravat, shiny black shoes.

The doctor’s face--eyes open--wore a look of sublime ecstasy. His skin was a pale shade of blue, and he, of course, was quite dead.





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)