I’d been instructed by the wind to construct a dream for my dearly departed friend.
Here it is. I hope he enjoys it in whatever realm he is in.
I awoke hearing a loud knock at my door. I peered through the peephole and spied priest in full regalia. He was decorated in white robes, the hat, the whole bit. I opened the door and the priest presented me with a covered silver platter, but I noticed something was amiss. The hand that held the platter was black and rotting. I realized that this wasn’t the priests hand. The priests arms were bound to his side. It was then I saw the giant black cloaked figure behind the priest reaching underneath the priest’s arms presenting me with the silver dish. It nodded and held the platter closer. I took away the lid and saw the hideous rotting face. The massive dark figure gestured again and I took the platter in my hands. It began to ripple and shift as if it were a strange soup. I looked again and now saw only my reflection. The platter was a mirror and I stared at myself out of it.
