Roald takes a deep breath, puts his hands on the urn on both sides, he looks at his friends trying to get reassurance he is doing the right thing and turns his face down to the gaping dark hole.
At first there is nothing, it's just dark, empty and it smells, it smells like sulphur? It takes him back to the fireworks he once saw as a kid, and with that thought he sees the fireworks, clear as the evening he saw them for real. He tries to get closer to the spectacle but when he shifts his vision he is distracted by a snake-like vein of smoke coming from behind him and swirling down into the urn.
yes, the urn, focus!
Other smoke snakes are passing him by, all clinging together on the bottom of the urn.
They all have a different scent, one smells wild, animal like. Another smells like metal and sweat. A third one has the scent of a forest in the fall. He loves that scent.
Roald loses focus for just a second and he is walking in a forest, the leaves are crispy beneath his feet. He takes in the fresh air, in the distance there is a cabin.
I could spend the night there
A patch of dried mud lies between him and the cabin, it's easy to walk on, plenty of animals have used it before. The tracks clearly indicate an abundance of wildlife. Deer, rabbits, hogs. But he spots also wolf and bear tracks.
better be careful, last time a saw a bear it ... Albeart. Damnit Roald, don't let yourself get carried away
Again he is back inside the urn. The smoke threads swirling, the different scents touching his nose one after the other.
A heavy liquor smell combined with vomit and pee hits him in the face.
I know that smell! That's me, or ... Who I used to be.
If only I could detach the thread from the bottom of the urn.
Bystanders will see Roald trying to put his hand through the gap created by his face and the urn.
