“Well, they don’t feed off the same things we do, but it is exhausting. Also, between us girls, I don’t think I’ll ever fit into what they want me to be. I’m not good or this cosmic being of perpetual bliss. And I don’t think I ever will be.”
I look at Clio’s great belly, knowing more of us are coming and that they’re gonna need someone. Someone to look to when they feel they’re not good enough, someone to make them feel like even if they screw up and make mistakes…it doesn’t mean they have to go away.
There is a chill of anticipation in the room, like how you feel in a horror movie when it’s too quiet. Dash can almost hear someone screaming, “Don’t go in the basement!”. The sudden and completely unsubstantiated idea that he is not alone, now consumes him.
As things seem to break apart, I take the opportunity to make my way over to Atë. I lay my hand on my half-sister and best friend’s shoulder, and it’s as if we haven’t been apart for centuries.
Another call, not yours. When I heard it, it came with all this nourishment for me. Chaos, tragedy, strife. Taking a bite of each one was like taking a step, like following a trail of breadcrumbs.
Chaos. Disorder. Confusion. These are things I enjoy. I don’t just do them because that’s my lot in life. It happens naturally, and they look at me as if I’m a monster.
“You’ve been lost. You’ve let your domain swallow you whole.” “My domain?” “You’re the god of chaos, sweet cheeks,” he laughed, “it’s not the god of you.”
