This week’s words: Billow Harm Ashen Wytai ((n.) a feature of modern society that suddenly strikes you as absurd and grotesque—from zoos and milk-drinking to organ transplants, life insurance, and fiction—part of the faint background noise of absurdity that reverberates from the moment our ancestors first crawled out of the slime but could not for the life of them remember what they got up to do..) Irreversible Chew Pear Canopy Simmer Infest Held Lodestone ((n) A rock that consists of pure or nearly pure magnetite and thus is naturally magnetic. A piece of such rock, which can be used as a magnet and which was formerly used as a primitive compass. A person or thing regarded as a focus of attraction.)
When Waz woke up he had that distinct sensation of wondering where he was and why he was there.
“It’s the wytai,” a voice said to him.
“What?” asked Waz alarmed that not only was he feeling disorientated but that he was now hearing voices.
“The wytai, don’t be too concerned it happens to us all in the moments after death. That whole sense of who am I? What am I? Where am I? It happens to us all. But it doesn’t last long. Wytai is like that. Here one minute gone the next. But it does evoke a lot of questions.”
“Oh yes like have to ever wondered why a pear is the shape it is?”
“No I haven’t,” answered Waz still coming to terms with the word death he had clearly just heard.
“Did you know a lodestone was once a primitive compass?”
“Lodestone. A rock that consists of pure or nearly pure magnetite and thus is naturally magnetic.”
“No I don’t know what you are talking about. Where am I anyway?”
“Yes and don’t be so alarmed, you’ve a long time to get used to the place. Your ashen face will fade before long and once you find your bearings there will be plenty for you to chew on.”
“Am I dead?”
“Yes it’s the only way to get here you know.”
“But I’m not ready to be dead.”
“Tough on you isn’t it. You see death is irreversible, there’s no going back. There’s no harm going to come to you. Pretty much every one is here and in the same boat as you. As you go along you’ll be asked to make a choice or two, just to make the whole thing a lot more bearable.”
“Well there’s the choir. If you are into endless hymn singing, dressed in a billowing gown that will allow every eternal draught up your bits then that’s the place for you. Auditions will be held soon, keep your eye out for them. You’ll hear all about them, they are held in the green forest, it’s the one with the green canopy, all very logical when you think about it.
Then again cooking classes might be more your thing? Eternity is infested with a range of beings and substances that respond well to a good simmering or two. All that happens in the downstairs department, you can’t miss it. Big door. Hell fire written on it. There’s usually a queue outside as some souls take a perverse interest in the suffering of others.
It’s all very advanced wytai if you ask me. Understanding the nature of beings who are all supposed to be alike but in fact are a different as chalk and cheese.
Personally I’d take the billowing choir outfit over time, if there such a thing here, becoming a lodestone, with too much attention put onto you can work against you.”
“Well basically you’ll give people the shits and before you know it your bits are simmering along with all the other bits in need of a good simmer. Can be quite depressing I can assure you.”
“Ashes to ashes you might say.”
“More like balls to ashes.”