~pondering prophets~

October 23rd, 2019

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As we moved through Modica’s melancholy decay and many shades of green, I pondered the possible significance of the gifts of Siracusa, two of which tie to melancholy myths of prophets—one beheaded, one disbelieved and eventually murdered.

I love the notion of being a conduit for messages from the beyond, as writing sometimes feels. I admire these figures’ courage, which writing also requires. For now, I’ll presume these gifts were calling me—in no way a prophet, it’s a metaphor, man—to return to my desk.

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