Chapter 53 - Nymphs and Satyr

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Chapter 53 – Nymphs and Satyr

I wake up in the middle of a forest

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I wake up in the middle of a forest.

After being crushed by Pablo Picasso's corner mess. What a ridiculous way to go?

I hope that traumatized him a bit. He was spewing nonsense.

It's bullshit. I don't actually hate artists. I'm in love with Gustave Courbet, am I not?

I just don't like feeling inferior, and people like Picasso, with a purpose seem to want everyone around them to feel smaller or inferior because they don't have their shit together and I fucking hate it.

I hate the superiority complex of artists that think they're better than everyone else because they're pursuing something nobler.

I'm getting riled up in my head, and that's ridiculous, so I get up and look around.

There's a commotion happening not too far. I can hear it, so I follow the sound, because even after all this time, I still haven't learned to mind my own business.

Women are gathering around a pond, sitting under trees, and laying on the grass. All naked. I'm assuming they're some kind of nymphs. I'm pretty sure they're usually forest nymphs in these paintings.

But there is also a group of them who are dragging away a man, or a man-like creature, towards the pond, and he's putting up quite a fight.

I think he's a centaur, or a satyr. One of the two.

I'm also pretty sure the last time I dealt with one of these it ended badly.

Still, I get closer.

I really haven't learned my lessons.

Once I'm close enough to the group fighting, I ask very nonchalantly, "Are we drowning him?"

One of the girls looks up at me, a little surprised, and then answers, "No, we're trying to calm his ardors."

"Because if he's some kind of creepy peeping tom, I might be okay with drowning him, you know?" I tell them with a shrug. The women are still trying to drag the man-with-seemingly-cow-legs towards the pond.

I do want to be a better person. I'm pretty sure these paintings would much rather I did not commit crime. But yeah.

I have zero tolerance for creepy people.

So, I'm fine with drowning him if he is.

And if I'm being honest...

I want to hurt someone. Because I'm hurt.

Because that bastard Picasso... because of the shit he said.

Because... because... because it's not true.

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