An early thought for a sci-fi story… They were more than clay and river. Chaos raced in their bones and was subdued. They were the self- appointed in a stormy age of pain and fear. Creation rebelled. Adults sank into victims or sinners. Children bled children. Minds spat disease into begging minds. Violence begot unreason. The earth hurt and the sky cried pestilence. A secret history. A shame made forgotten. Healing desires lies and sacrifice. And that’s how it was. A world that forgot itself. But they were believers, of … Read the full article…