THE WHALE SONG STUDIO

from The Whale Song Blues

STAN PEERED THROUGH THE DUSTY, COBWEBBED WINDOWS AND ADJUSTED HIS FOCUS TO ADAPT TO THE SHADOWY LIGHT. HE IMMEDIATELY BECAME UNCOMFORTABLE; HE PREFERRED NOT TO BE AROUND THE ARTEFACTS OF DEATH. STAN SUSPECTED THAT THEY WERE INVOLVED IN NEFARIOUS PLOTS AND DEADLY GAMES OF TIG: ONCE YOU HAD TOUCHED THEIR CONTAMINATED SURFACES, IT WAS ALL OVER, YOUR DAYS WERE BOTH CURSED AND NUMBERED. WITH THE HEX ACTIVATED, YOU HAD UNWITTINGLY SET YOURSELF UP TO BE THE NEXT PERSON TO DROP HORRIBLY DEAD FROM ANY MANNER OF POSSIBLE AILMENTS. HE DIDN’T WANT THEIR DEATH GERMS. HE DIDN’T WANT TO TOUCH THE COFFIN HANDLE THAT WAS GOING TO TAG HIM INTO A PERMANENT STATE OF IT. HOW WEARYING THAT WOULD BE: WALKING THE LANDS OF THE EARTH (POSSIBLY FOR THE NEXT FIFTY YEARS, OR SO) KNOWING YOU WERE GOING TO DIE.