The water was still. It rippled behind me like each arc of my life, flowing away. I made it, staring, dumbfounded, at the fortress of wood that stood in front of me. "My ideas.... sometimes..." I chose not to continue the thought as I searched out a rope. One of many that twisted down the sides, bowing this way and that to the sea and the winds and the sky. It called to me like it was made for me. So I grabbed hold of it. I felt each strand grind between my hand, then knot after knot i climbed up, heading for the top, the unkown.
For dancing? Not... right... Not what anyone ever expects to see on the deck of a pirate ship, with pirate sails, and pirates. Not dancing. As my mind took in what was going on it suddenly saw and heard the truth. These pirates weren't the death I had come looking for. They danced to their own tune. Much louder, and merrier. No death? For death doesn't come to the tune of the chicken dance. I silently swor under my breath, knowing whatever thoughts had previousely been consuming my mind were now lost. Death was disapating. In its place colors of swirling male and female dancers were taking over.

From Fishsticks to Turkey

It came, whole and pure. The vessel before me seemed to be the only thing my mind could fix upon. It stood still, alone, like the last place the world needed to survive. But why did the black sails hold death upon them? Death. Die... Maybe I could die there too? I never knew the thought of death could draw me forth so strongly. I knew I had been avoiding it myself, but there it wouldn't be me. Leaving destruction and chaos in the piles of insects at my feet, I crunched over their twisted bodies and headed toward the shore, the sails, and certain death.

The water wasn't so far away as to seem a struggle to get to, but certainly it wasn't as close as my mind made it seem. I was not there. I was there. Boarded the last bit of life I knew was me, I began chasing death. One row, two row. I was lost in the thought that wasn't mine. It didn't disaapear. It stayed there. The mighty ship stayed there. I got closer and it didn't get farther away.

River Gone Big

SISTER PILLAGE begins:
Laying on the river bank, I swear my world was smaller than the world I watched crawl around my toes. Ants and spiders took great pleasure in the pain they inflicted on my toes and ankles. Yes, my life had reached an all time low- I was letting insects bite me for the distraction of the pain they offered. The days of my small life had turned into one ruin after another, and behind me, my mind was a civilization destroyed beyond repair. After Susan died, no one dared to suggest I take up Father's farm. They knew I was too sick with grief to do anything beyond breathing and too healthy to kill myself with sickness.
Fire smoke floated into my head. Gazing emptily at the river, my jaw hung slack. As the smoke grew, disappearing into the atmosphere, the river expanded and grew with the expansion and growth of the smoke cloud. Great water was opening up before me, and like a field on fire, my eyes burned with the sting of something I had never seen before. On the belly of the ocean now stretching before my reddening eyes was a ship the color of jellyfish. It rippled as if the breeze pushing the smoke vision before me were a great gale of wind.