Enter eco-monstrous omniverse a ragged retreat / a reversal of will

noble savage look into the eyes of your being and tell me wholeheartedly that you exist at all

It was that time of the late afternoon when the day gives out to empty silence. Some call these days towards the end of summer the “dog days”; the air felt inert and even the smallest resonances were amplified, echoes and sudden shrill cries performed in the air for us. The dock was empty and cast in cool shadows, a wide expanse of concrete dock, with waves gently lapping from the passing swell of a larger boat not so far from the shore.

Apart from that, and our arrival, the place was empty, the bell towers a few streets away began to strike four, we could see them looming as we disembarked from our small gondola style boat, we moored on the narrow wooden landing bay and both took an end of the heavy wooden case each, making sure we kept the boat in balance, was not an easy task. Once we had unloaded our burden I stopped to catch my breath, standing there with Juno it felt safe and cool a far cry from the frenzied world we had left behind. As I looked about I put my hands around my waist and felt on one hip the ceremonial dagger that I was forsworn to carry at all times. This time I hoped it would not be necessary to use it.

I had arranged for a porter to come and help us take the box to the palazzo at this time but still the dock was deserted, kicking up some dust we wandered the shady peninsular of our arrival spot, perhaps to seek a doorway that might lead to some refreshment. Overhead great birds of prey, maybe eagles or vultures soared on the warm air, they were so very high though it was almost impossible to say for sure what species they were.

It was to be a short ceremony this time but without the casket in place and intact it could not possibly be complete. The master expected all to be in place by the time of sundown. Out of the shows round a heavy wooden cart pulled by one ox. Juno helped me load the casket and we plodded slowly into the labyrinthine streets that would lead us to the sepulchre.

Heaps of skulls piled up against a large wooden doorway, its’ green paint flaked from many weather worn years of abandon. Darting across our path now and again I caught fleeting glances of bizarre courtesans with long scarlet silken capes flow from their backs and shimmering grotesque plague mask visages.

They would be realizing the hives now, it was only a matter of time soon that the bees would flow, no, I should say ooze towards a present moment where their destiny would be all encompassing and sweet, sweeter than any honey known to you or I.

By this time though we would be below the catacombs presenting our greatest work to the master for his perusal and devouring, we would be in raptures of ecstasies; the moonlight grimoire would then begin.

In a twisting unreality the wind picked up and Juno’s face caught my eye, it was definitely all coming together, all our plans all those many many months of meticulous study. I beckoned the porter to make his oxen fasten its pace, if we had not vacated these streets by bee fall we would be dammed to hell along with the contents of the casket. If this were to happen we may as well throw ourselves to be dashed on the razor jagged rocks that line the peninsular, where the eagles make carrion out of the slaughtered martyrs whose rotting bodies fizz with flies in the noonday sun.

Rotting beast, flying birds, secret pans wooden caskets flowing robes flowering heads wooden hearts the life of saints the streets soon run with poisoned blood.

At last the massive carved wooden doors of the sepulchre creaked into sight and we sank into the cool black depths below the streets where the dust could not find us. Excitedly I rubbed the palm of my hand across the daggers sheath, tonight will be a feast for the eyes I said out loud to Juno who merely shrugged and plunged ahead on into the darkness as if following a spectre beckoning.