Vīgrīthr's Calling

At the behest of several individuals I have died. No! It was by no mere fault of my own, but rather my own choice. This fleeting August pulled at me with all its claws and eventually my chest was rent. As the blood flowed from my broken body, I lay there in its warm inviting scent and it washed over my eyes as they sank into a world of oblivion, a world of dreams. Or were they dreams, these black & white snapshots of my life... or a previous life? At this current hour, I cannot say. The world flew by me at lighting speeds, yet I did not notice. The sky turned red and churned with waves only fit for an ocean, yet I did not notice. My enemies became my friends and my mind became my body--yet I did not notice.

In these ephemeral moments I recalled my life, or at least what I knew of it. My frail hours spent in eternal toil... and for what? The illusion at last was complete, and I--a vagrant hidden in the aft of the theater--had seen all the magician's devices and slights. And ho! It was a mere parlor trick, something even I could perform at parties... 'twas only meddling with the Gods! Life. Death. Two sides of a die--a die with so many more possibilities! And as I look back now, these revelations seem only incosequential as the darkness and dreams released me and I awoke in a Vita-chamber.