"Quest of Herman"

Pale feet sifted through hot sand. Piss yellow energy engulfed the young man. The sun baked the bottom of his tootsies. He was gazing out into the open desert, breathing deeply, contemplating the waterless journey ahead.

The yellow aura surrounding our adventurer, who was named Herman, carried urine from within the piss track of the human body and purified it of other than water, and carried the water back into the throat of the caster. So it wasn’t an entirely waterless journey, just without new water.

That last struck Herman as furious ok news.

Herman waltzed out into the desert. He fished around in the pockets of his yellow robe for fish bones to cast prophecy with.

Herman was on a quest to obtain the fabled purple snowball that could only be found somewhere centerwise in this particular desert, Desert Magrudr. The snowball contained the power to raise a billion troop ghost army.

Herman cast the bones from his pocket upon the sand. He interpreted the pattern to mean good news romantically. Interesting, yet not as helpful as he had hoped.

Herman left the bones behind so the prophecy would come true. He waltzed on.

The desert winds whispered of the tragedies the desert sands had witnessed.

A chicken ghost manifested upon the bones Herman left behind. The chicken spirit took to the bright day winds to make the prophecy come true.

The bones the chicken had exited crackled apart and reformed as a Jesus fish.

Herman occupied himself singing show tunes until his right thumb exploded. Where the thumb had been, the ghost of a centipede appeared and was floating, stretching its legs.

“I hope you’re a helpful spirit,” Herman said.

The centipede pointed its triangular eyes at Herman and said, “If you don’t like thumbs.”

The phantasmal form of the centipede attached its buttocks to the place on Herman’s hand missing a thumb. This stopped the bleeding. The centipede said, “I can find anything except your snowball.”

Herman said, “My future romance.”

Herman was no longer glowing yellow, he was out of urine.

The two of them left the desert together.

The End

a reply to: WalkingHolic



I liked that, my first thought was some version of Hernan Cortez Perhaps an afterlife where he is tortured to wander thirsty and never finding what he seeks.
I ended up truly not knowing. The imagery made me think of the sort of halloucinatory state you can get in when you are without water for long enough, a sort of sun stroke kind of existence.

a reply to: WalkingHolic

Totally surreal, I'm still trying to come to terms with the chicken and the centipede.

a reply to: Encia22

Lol, me too!