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.