Some rules:

• ​Do not ask the dream characters where there eyes are.

Last time you did this, a shadow settled itself over your honey-coloured vision. The bystanders, they put on masks. The sky; it split open from the force of their malevolence.

• Remember that most gods have permission to die by the side of country roads.

It’s hard to look, no? The golden blood veining out across the ground. The harsh breathing and the unholy twirl of their wrists. Do...

Some rules:

• ​Do not ask the dream characters where there eyes are.

Last time you did this, a shadow settled itself over your honey-coloured vision. The bystanders, they put on masks. The sky; it split open from the force of their malevolence.

• Remember that most gods have permission to die by the side of country roads.

It’s hard to look, no? The golden blood veining out across the ground. The harsh breathing and the unholy twirl of their wrists. Do...

Okay, so you’re in the monastery and the ghosts are visiting too much again.

He, the godling, is immortalised in the stained glass and the curve of his cheek lets you think of a million and one different things. He looks up at his sister, a sharp smile melding his features into colour. The clouds around him are grey, but is that streaks of green in his hair?

It’s been five years. It’s been five years and you’ve gone half...

Okay, so he laughs and it’s absolutely filled with reverence and excitement and fear and then out of his mouth next is a jumble of incomprehensible words and they’re all so sharp and exuberant to the point where you wonder; how is he not bloodied by them yet? 

“There’s just so much out there!” He exclaims and gold lightning cracks across the sky like a warning, the ground heats up like a reckoning and the planet rings, oh how they ...