Blood is salt, like seawater; the heart moves an ocean in miniature.
Tomorrow she will confront; tomorrow she will demand. In this house she is no one’s lesser.
BCS 123: Sekhmet Hunts the Dying Gnosis: A Computation
Issue #143 - Science-Fantasy Month 2, March 20, 2014
A strange impulse, an alien need: she devours all that she knows, and knows all that she devours.
The graceful architecture of this place has haunted her dreams since the first years of her training.
She would have run, but her legs betrayed her—a contraction, locking her in place, as frozen as the baby within her womb.
I stared at him, feeling the dirt of travel and the coarse fabric of the borrowed peasant’s wools against my skin.
The iterations of his death resound about him like the echoes of a minor chord.
I missed all the excitement the day the trains walked away.
The washed-out sky and black indifferent trees blur as I cough out the fire within me.