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Hurricane Humans: Give me accountability, I'll give you peace

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Abhijit Naskar

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“Deep within the bowels of Imajinaereum, a Barbellite girl wept. Her warm tears slid across her face like tiny, slithering snakes. They drained and fell, infesting her already damp lap. The room around her was pitch black and so was her spirits: Black as coal. Serafina had never felt depression so profound. It was as if she couldn’t move, couldn’t eat. She could only sit in the dark and give birth to her colony of snakes. They bit her from the inside, infecting her with the poison of revenge. Joy long eclipsed, hate festered inside her like a sore that refused to heal. And this time she would let that cut decompose into something even more unsightly. Between sobs, Serafina reached for the razor beside her. The sharp blade was cold between her fingers. Deathly cold. Recent developments had catalyzed her pain and transformed it into something physical. Serafina contorted her torso as a marrow-deep ache threatened to lynch her. Soon, she would target the very source of her worries or die trying. The room seemed to darken as the thought blossomed inside her mind like a black flower. Then she reached for the bone-white scroll beside her. The parchment felt like the skin of a beast as she held it up before her face. Tonight she would set things in motion to murder her grandmother. In one quick jagged motion, Serafina slit her palm with the blade. She gasped at the sight of her blood flowing down her wrist. She felt only a prick. As her liberated blood dripped onto the parchment, she recited the words she had memorized years ago.”

SacrificeDepressionDemonRitualWitchcraft And Spells
Author:Asher Sharol
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“When the night is as long as the day, then the storms of the equinox begin to get up, when artificial light is as strong as the violence of the sun, then the passion for gambling is unleashed, when two women equal each other in your mind, then the equinox of pleasure begins. For some, life is interminable, and what is interminable no longer makes sense. How are they to find time to live? For others, life is over right from the outset. It has ended before it has begun. It unfolds on a sort of abstract strip, without any temporal dimension. In this way, some lives sacrifice their own ends uselessly, and lose even the memory of their origins. If there were a secret, no one, not even the person who knew it, would be able to divulge it. We must keep watching, from the depths of a definitive silence, for the definitive event.”

SecretSacrificeMemoryImmortality
Book:Cool memories
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