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You know that thing you humans say about how your life flashes before your eyes just before you die? I think you guys might be onto something. I have lived for eons but every single day is running through my mind right now. Every trick I ever pulled, every city destroyed in anger, every lover I took to bed. I see them all, clear as day.
If you are reading this book then you must have either completed your might and magic training or succeeded in killing a spirit hunter and found their copy a spoil (no spirit hunter in their right mind will hand you this book under any circumstances). But whatever means you’ve acquired it, it will guide you into hunting, capturing or, in the worst case scenario, running when you come across any of these spirits.
The days that followed the godkilling were rife with confusion. The congregation couldn’t come to an agreement: The greatest prophecy of our religion, where our god’s eternal death gives us an eternal home, had come to pass, yet there were no heavenly steps toward a warm hollow or a place to rest our souls.
Your guidebook writers acknowledge that there’s been a great deal of debate about how exactly an eighth continent appeared in our midst. Amid some circles, there’s talk of the landmass as an intergalactic spaceship, its presence entering our reality like a sparrow flying through an open window. There are speculations that it rose from the […]
1. KING Once upon a time there was a king who had a daughter that he loved very much, and when she disappeared, he called you to the throne room and requested your services. “Tell me what happened to her,” he said. It had been three days since the Crown Princess Jieqiong had last been […]
In a minute, nothing we’ve said to each other and nothing we’ve done with each other will ever matter again. I don’t want her to go. We’ve just made love: spontaneous, unexpected, volcanic, in the way that sometimes occurs between people who are usually more cautious, more guarded, more moved by rational calculation than whim.
When Amy begins to flay herself during office hours, you aren’t quite sure what to do. You hate office hours. You used to enjoy them, actually, back before the flayings started. Sure, it’s hard sharing your office with three other postdocs, and sure, you could spend these hours more efficiently without constant interruptions from shy undergraduates with a dozen questions already answered on the syllabus.
When she decided to wander through the woods in search of poppy fields and prowling houses, the stepmothers and grandmothers scoffed.
“You’ll be looking for love potions and beauty serums, then. Shallow. I always knew you were an insecure girl.”
“She wants slimmer thighs.”
“She craves wider hips.”
“She knows the boys don’t look twice at her, that she’ll never marry. Sad.”
You’ve gotten a C-minus, and it isn’t your fault. It is also not your fault that your parents are anal, Pakistani immigrants who came to this country with nothing and think a C-minus in tenth grade spells life-long doom. It doesn’t help that your Auntie (your mother’s cousin three times removed) is staying over and caught you watching inappropriate content on your laptop.
Rat was sure the silent, four-eyed skull of a dead god was staring at him. He followed the crowd off the train toward a rickety stand with the word Orientation painted on the front. But he couldn’t stop looking into the giant god’s eyes. Every dead person Rat had seen had eyes like that. Unseeing. […]
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