The Unspeakable, venom dripping, ripped into their offering, gagged, and asked the Druids in long hemp cloaks and unwashed hair — “Tofu!?!”
“Do I have a soul?” Emma asked her creator. “I’m not God,” he said. “So I don’t,” she said & exhaled her last. “No, I don’t know,” he sobbed.
While living with a man, torn notes regularly appeared in my life. I offered these to the gods. No man. No more torn notes. No more god.
The new roof on the fish shack was complete. He stood back admiring his work. Slowly he grew old and vanished. Only the building remains.