I didn’t really question my mental state until giant owls started talking to me.
Well, a giant owl.
One is probably enough for sanity-doubting.
Though I wasn’t even all that surprised when he showed up.
I thought “oh, it’s come to this” and that was that.
And really, it’s nice to have the company.
I keep wondering what it means, why he’s here. If I’ve finally lost it or it’s some sort of divine sign or a combination of the two.
He sits on my couch and drinks all my beer and tells me things I already know.
Which is its own kind of wisdom, I suppose.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.