This venerable old fellow is Otyk Pregheim. We see him here just at the point as he passes from this world to the next. He has had a good life, and, at 98, a long one too. Sitting in his favourite old chair on the veranda of his woodman's shack on the forested hills above Klodznán he fell gently into a warm and pleasant dream of girls he had known once in a Rigan bordello. Buxom, lime-scented and doe-eyed, they lead him through their curtained door and up the winding staircase, never to come back down ever again.
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Sorry I know this was last week's theme, but last week I was mad mad busy and didn't get a chance.
2 comments:
Lovely design
haha...i love the 'literal kicking of the bucket'
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