Monday, September 05, 2011

The Mystery of Ye Old Mill

It seems as if it has always been there (longer than I've been around, that's for sure), a simple ride on the grounds of the Minnesota State Fair. Pre-war in its construction (World War I, that is):

Its turbulent cyan waters lead to a portal to the underworld, Minnesota's own River Styx:

The operator led the Weaver and me to our seats in the rickety old wooden boat, muttering under his breath "Get prepared for the ride of your lives...":

How best to describe the utter blackness? The inky void was punctuated only briefly by nightmarish visions, slipping past too quickly to be fully absorbed:

Still this hellish trip continued, with yet another confounding apparition:

"¡No mas! ¡No mas!" I cried, but the most demonic sight was still to come:

Pressing my eyelids tightly together, I received some relief from my torment, how I managed to escape, I do not know. Suddenly we were back in the light, being helped out onto the landing. "Who... Why... What does it all mean?" I sputtered.

The Weaver gave me a look and said; "You, know, it's a lot more fun if you kiss while you are in the tunnel."

By Professor Batty


Blogger Iceland Eyes said...

Haha, brilliant! Surreal and succinct ~.~

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