I’m writing these words on a barge Drifting slowly down a canal In the night.
A chill wind whistles past my ears Rustling the reeds and long grasses As it blows.
Someone died here last week, Drowned. No-one knows how or why.
Yesterday, the police revealed The identity of the victim: It was you.
Interesting. I nearly did die last week. Or I felt death on my shoulder, anyway. Glad that I am not floating.
I’m glad you made it!
Interestingly, when it comes to self-told stories of avoiding death, there’s no such thing as bad news: if you live, there’s good news, if you die, there’s none.
