Orchard of Bones

A vast expanse lies before me. Its emptiness is broken only by ivory totems, arranged long ago by an unknown artist. Each one takes its own form; limitless shapes and arrangements construct the populace of bones. I follow the path without going astray. I know not to approach these structures. This land is cursed, forever soured by the evils it holds deep. A rumble sounds in the distant sky. The winds bring its inhuman voice to my ears. I hear it pure, unadulterated by the unnatural spires of mankind. It’s a calling, a welcome, an invitation. I must follow. The journey leaves my feet hot and blistered; my legs, weak and thin. But I know no choice existed. I come to meet the caretaker of this garden of death. And death, it is. My past is behind me. The present is here. My future, non-existent. I’ve arrived here not by folly, but by destiny. My life expired long before this trek. And this is but the final destination. My flesh dissolves, exposing the osseous frame which will be used to construct a new totem, my effigy, to be added to the growing garden of memories.

∼ Lee Andrew Forman

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