I climb from one ledge to the next chasing his silhouette as he crawls from the window, his frantic breathing never ceases as he shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls it out as quickly, there seems to be a parchment of some sort that he placed there. I fancy a look and it says, “I love you and cannot wait to meet you.”He is now at the top of the roof facing me, his back inches ever closer to the edge. There are tears streaming down his face as he mutters “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Nothing ever goes right…” He has a pained visage as he thrusts his arm in the air, balling his hands. “Don’t do this! You’re going to be fine sir; it is going to be okay…”
There is an agent of the city behind me and his calm demeanor is but a mask to calm him down. I see these faces in moments of desperation when humans try to convince someone with their soul. I see it reaching toward the man but all attempts to rescue him, to call out to his conscience seem to be in vain.He simply nods and says:“Yes, it is going to be okay.” The only ground below him now is a few hundred feet below. I cannot help but wonder, was this the best course of action?
His soul now stands before me and the 42 judges, Ammit snaps her jaws and growls slowly. The man’s soul seems to tremble like leaves in Vallombrosa’s autumn as he bows before us once again. Anubis sighs with his unwavering gaze and asks me, “Shall I put it to measure?”I swim out of my thoughts and motion him to stop, “Give me a moment, I want to see the cause.”“This isn’t the way we do things.” Ammit says with a grin ever so light. I shake my head as she rolls her eyes. I look at Osiris to find him preoccupied and so I continue and place my hand on him once again.
This time, I find myself in a quaint dark place, light gently trickles through the window and I see the man’s hands covered with blood and a limp body of a middle-aged man on the ceramic tiles, he dons a white coat and seems to be a doctor in this realm. He falls to the floor muttering invectives and bolts upright; it looks like he’s performing CPR now but the doctor’s body never responds to his effort. He falls over and begins crying but after a few moments ceases all such actions and picks up a bag on a nearby counter. Rushing through fields and cobbled roads, I see him betwixt a cottage, his arms are around a woman whose skin is sickly pale. “I have it! You’re going to be okay honey.” It seems clear that his words are rushed and he immediately thrusts a hypodermic on her arm. She lets out a sigh and her breathing slows down yet it eventually ceases altogether. The man lets out a ghastly howl as he tugs the shoulder of the woman, I see her quaint soul rise out and begin its journey but I am afraid there was no time for parting words for him, such is the ever-fleeting nature of… existence.
I remove my hand over his soul but mention of this experience to no one. His heart is now put on the scale and the feather placed on the other end, it’s moments like these that fascinate me the most but even if I am a god of knowledge, I am not lost to vain. I close my eyes and bend my ears, so that I may never know his fate but, in my heart, I believe he is caressing the reeds with her and smiling as the sun sets eternally on the fields.
