Tales of a Southern Gentleman: Reflection of the Soul

The bright light of day is quickly replaced by darkness as Vernon falls through the sky. With a harsh landing on the ground, he’s barely submerged in water for a moment. The fall was enough to knock him out yet somehow he was not lying unconscious. He didn’t know that yet, the sky he was staring up at told him otherwise now. He’d seen clear night skies, but this? This was something indescribable. Words in any language could do it no justice to just how truly bright these were. He would’ve lied there and stared forever if there wasn’t a chilling wetness seeping into his sun-bleached clothing. Quickly he rises to his feet observing the rippling mirror image of the skies above pooling around his ankles. 

“By god…” He lets the water settle back to its still position. Watching the skies and the water endlessly wander on together; the horizon offering no solace to where one ends and the other begins. The man was mystified by the stary waters surrounding his feet and soaking his boots. He’s cautious as he takes off his boots and socks, rolling up his pants so he can experience the waters of this strange place. Wandering now he uses the ripples in the water as a guide to tell him that he’s still walking on land and not in the skies. He hopes to find someone or something to ask where he is. It’s silent besides the sounds of his shuffling feet in the waters. The stars put on a gorgeous show while his neck cranes up to look at their beauty. 

After what seems like hours of wandering Vernon ends up stopping. An idiot idea runs through his mind, but it’s the Southerner in him. He strips down to just his boxers and lies down in the chill waters. Letting the cold of the shallow water surround him. He feels like he’s floating. The serenity of everything he was so lucky to experience right now was unlike anything he could ever dream of. All because he curb-stomped some little green glob of slime he’d run across on his farm. He lets the water consume his skin, feeling the intimate comfort of its cooling embrace. All weight he normally felt was replaced by an airyness… like he was floating. All six feet and two inches of him felt unreasonably light. 

Time passed on as Vernon just stared at the sky. It felt like he was staring at a painting the entire time, a moving painting. 

‘I guess movie would be a better way to describe it than a damn moving picture.’ He thinks to himself. He couldn’t put his finger on what lying in this shallow water was making his emotions stir, but they were bubbling and boiling now. Churning in rage, sadness, disappointment, and a plethora of others he couldn’t describe without proper therapy; he seemed lost and found all at once. All of it was welling up, tears threatening to slip past his eyes. 

‘I’m the only one out here…’ He lets it fall after that. The tears, the emotion, the anger, all unspoken words seemingly spoken to the universe now while he sobs. His tears become a part of something bigger, something that would bring someone joy and not pain. Solace and serenity instead of emotional stunting. While the tears continue to fall he’s left with blurry eyes, the sky swatching into something still beautiful despite the blur of pain. Vernon remains like this for a long while, sobbing his eyes out until there are no more tears left in his soul. The silence returns quickly after, falling over him like a blanketed hug. He doesn’t feel alone despite being stuck in some unknown place. 

‘Maybe I fell into a painting.’ He thinks to himself, finally sitting up. Looking like a drowned rat he gets up, realizing that taking off all his clothes offers nothing. He placed his clothes in the water. 

“God damnit.” The cowboy is batting a thousand for good decisions because now he has no choice but to carry around his sopping wet clothing instead of putting them on. Restarting his journey he continues on in his boxers, this time in search of anything other than shallow water and endless horizon. He looked like a wet dog and probably smelled like one too. Sopping wet hair and a rather unbathed body, he’s surprised that his dust and grime didn’t taint these beautiful waters he was stomping all over. Men like him didn’t deserve to see beautiful things like this, yet here he was. By some grace of God. The wandering was growing tiring by now. He wanted to be frustrated at this glorious place. He wanted to be able to stomp around and throw a tantrum like a child but he already got his one breakdown of the month with that sobbing session. Lucky for him in his frustrated state he came across the silhouettes of people. All he could tell was that they weren’t stars and that’s all that mattered now. 

“Maybe I died.” He mutters to himself. “An this is heaven… or hell. Maybe hell is actually a nice place.” His feet drag him closer and closer to these silhouettes, the blobs growing bigger as he grows nearer. The sound of speaking started to hit his ears, which lifted his spirits. Finally, after ages, Vernon comes to face these silhouettes. 

“ ‘Scuse me, but where am-” The people turn around. Well, not people. Dawned in bright clothes and covered in rainbow scales he looks up to these serpent people. 

‘Snakes with arms.’ His thoughts get the better of him.

“-I? Am I dead?” His sentence finishes off with confusion. Vernon had never been more thankful that it was decently dark out, because the look on his face was downright disrespectful to these poor people. He didn’t mean to give them a look like that, but he’d been alone with his thoughts and emotions for too long tonight. 

These people were much too nice to him. Answering all his questions and allowing him to come into a small town to find a portal back. Though, not without giving them thanks and asking to return one day. They happily obliged to his request, though they asked even more kindly that he remain fully clothed next time. All Vernon could do was blush and agree to their very simple terms.