Jim On the Banks of the River Styx — 1985 The Crossing

Jim is standing on the rocky shore of a dark underground river. The only sound is the constant thrum of pebbles thrown against the shore. Jim hears a whisper; the sound of a shadow gliding over hard round stones. Against the blackness he sees a man, tall and lean.

“Mark,” breaths Jim, “Oh Mark, it’s you.” The shade raises hollow eyes to Jim. They do not glow in the darkness. This is no skinwalker. These are Mark’s eyes, sad pale caverns in his wasted echo of a face.

Beyond sight, something is making small circles in the dark river. Tiny waves beat against the shore. Out in the blackness, a golden light hovers. Its flickering glow reflects off the expanding swells, shooting beams of light around the cavern. Jim can just make out a dim outline lit by a lantern. A tall man is polling through the water toward them. He wears a cloak and stands perfectly balanced, not even swaying, in the small craft.