The Corpse, the Ax, and the Ungloved Hand

On The Enduring Pleasures of Sad Stories

Photo by Angelo Pantazis (Unsplash.com)

The other morning I woke with a dead man drifting through my mind. I saw his body on a cold shoreline, grey skin tangled in seaweed as grey water lapped at his body, clattering the little grey stones that lay all around him. Ruined acolyte of some drowned god. The sight filled me with complete, utter sadness, sadness as cold…