I’d like to go on a cruise, I’d like to sail the River Lethe’s cold water on a ship who has sailed alone around the world and to Hades and back.
I’d sail for days and days on the Lethe and when I had enough of sailing with my silent friend, I’d go to land and stand on it’s shores.
I’ve heard the shore of the Lethe is shrouded in mist and fog and that strange creatures twisted creatures climb and slither across it jagged rocks.
Maybe I would see a friend or two, I don’t think they’d know me but I would know them. I wonder if their eyes would be empty, if they would talk, if they sleep or dream.
If I told them what I was going to do, why I sailed the Lethe, and if they could, would they tell me to turn back, to sail as fast as I could back to our world of blue water and a star filled sky.
That living in a world like the one we had was worth every scar, every tear?
Would I listen?
Before I leave the Lethe I want to taste it’s water, I want to swim in it, I want to drink from it until the water runs from my eyes and ears and nose.
And then I will forget.
A life free of pain and doubt, the burden of carrying guilt and failure.
What a luxury that must be.