Life squeezes from the left, the right, the top and the bottom. We think we look like people, but people is actually the shape of galactic silly putty.
My friend says he likes the image but the colors scare him.
A Short Story
Judgment was given. It was inevitable.
Karma or whatever that strange force of balance in the universe is, finally caught up with him. The accused is shackled, arms and legs splayed out, marks of punishment clear across the body.
Before today, he always managed to slip this way or that, avoiding the crushing blow of a hammer or sharp edge of a sword. This is the consequence of his lifestyle finally catching up. A bitter, final end.
The executioner stands, thinking for a moment, then begins preparing the implements of his craft. Soon the ground below will be the crimson color of a job well done. The sharpening stone slides down the length of the blade.
A comforting sound to all but the intended recipient.