This is about two locations: the Elysian Fields and Acheron.

The cemetery is in a quiet vicinity with a construction palette synonymous to static colours, although you wouldn’t miss spotting it with its elaborate stone-carved door frame at the threshold, depicting intricate sculptures of the appearances of Death in a vividly remembered mythology. White vans transport the lifeless bodies and silent Servants tend to the various rituals that follow, depending on the belief of the deceased one’s family. Sometimes, they are cremated, as the flames lick at the soul and send it up in smoke, while the ashes are stored in urns as a memory of the person’s physical self. Sometimes, the ashes are submerged in rivers or seas. Sometimes, the bodies are buried, with or without a coffin. This is where the dead come to rest.

The river runs a muddy grey close to the cemetery with a soothing, rippling consistency, and washes rose petals to the shore. What’s mildly surprising is, you’d expect a contaminated river to smell bad, or at least unpleasant, but you can smell the flowers. It’s an appropriate use, if you ask me. Of what use is the dead flower to man? Only a lifeless man can appreciate dying flora. There’s a beautiful relation they share, of death and of irrevocable denouement. To top it all, props of damaged wooden boats cling to whatever land they find around them – the only metaphor to illustrate our desperate grip on life even in the time of demise.

It would be a horror to end all horrors if you found Charon’s body afloat in this river, upside-down, wouldn’t it?