Graveyard Paralix
Wind"We could use a boatman," he said as the little copper bird tottered away with the tray.
He dug one gnarled finger into the casket and plucked out something with a cracked nail. From where you stood, you could not make out its shape, though it seemed to have the consistency of sludge and was black in colour.
"I was thinking its nigh time to take requests once more. And if I am taking, they will come."
He squeezed the unidentified blob between two dirty fingers. It wobbled a disconcerting amount more than you expected, as if the material protested. "Our river is not the most navigable, as you would have experienced for yourself. And here you stand, a credit to your own competence. What do you say? You paddle your little sticks for an honest working man?"
"I am not looking for a job," you say. "I am searching for an answer."
"Oh I know, dearie," the undertaker said, still unblinking and wearing that uncomfortably wide grin. "But you'll find if you sit tight, the river will bring them right to you."
