Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Bóthar by Brian Kavanagh

Bóthar

A road?
Not just any road my dear…
This is the final road, the one with the big mysterious cathedral at the end. The resting place of many a good man. And now this place will be my tomb. Not because I was a better man than most, but simply because it’s the end of the road my friend.
Gawking eyes haunt me as I approach the main doors. Cawing and crowing fills the dark air at this late hour, fear suddenly hits me as I reach out for the old gothic styled handle. The smell of sulphur and putrid dead skin consumes me now as the door slowly creaks to a stop.
A dark silhouette stands before me, a trail of tears lead to its feet. Its eyes lit with a disturbingly blue glow, covered in a robe to hide its deformed body. This silhouette somehow looks strangely familiar. I look beyond the robe and make out wounds on its torso, blood still dripping.
I can’t take this anymore! I think to myself and I make a run towards the shadowy figure. Suddenly in a flash of bright green, the robe disappears and I’m left facing myself! Naked, I look myself up and down filling with shame. As I look closer I realise that the wounds have opened up completely. A gash that you could fit your hand inside, covers where my heart once was.
I start to cry uncontrollably. I have just realised that I was not dying of natural causes, nor overdosing on any substance. I wasn’t even killed by some trigger happy maniac.
No!
I have just died of a broken heart…

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