Once upon a time, there was a hen. It was demonic as the skies turned to water and dropped down into the emptiness of the world. A face appeared above the horizon as I leapt to the tunes of small woodland nymphs playing in the haze of daffodils. I screamed loudly to the hovering apparition and it looked upon me and laughed as it melted away into a pool of blood. No one laughed anymore as the cows suddenly rolled into their well-hidden graves, never to be seen by a mortal such as I. My brain was crying out to be let free from such a horrible prison but the only consolation I got was from the maggots slowly eating away at my face. Liar came the deafening cry. Liar, liar, liar. What happens to the voices after they cease to exist?

Do they forever roam into the void that we call life? A strange bird cries out to the world that it no longer wears plaid and the fish explode in the sea because they no longer understand. So as I stand and watch the moon pass over me I know that the world is not only a place to live day after day eternally doing nothing in the masque of red, but that it too understands not the complexity of the screaming virgin nuns.