Cerulean Cape a world within a world

it delighted sobeille to no end that they both arrived -- very differently -- at the same thread of thought. this convergent meeting of minds titillated her, and fed a portion of sobeille that had long been starved.

what esme said next intrigued her even more. sobeille had, at times, felt a disassociative power within her. a raw and leering presence just waiting for its moment to outpour from her throat and raze the world. but she knew she could not speak of this incubus; not with her maman, nor chani, nor even strangers.

find your own god within you, esme suggested. and sobeille at last had a name for that malicious singularity that balled itself up like a fist against her heart.

esme pointed out that if her mother ceased her tithes, her altar would turn into something ordinary. sobeille felt that some places had a spiritual significance long after their worshippers left. perhaps the god they worshiped did not matter -- but the power signature left by each sacrificial offering lingered long after their lives faded.

do you think a place 'as memories like you or me? dat it remembers dese things? maybe your maman picked dat altar because de place told 'er to. maybe some people 'ave -- here she grew silent for a moment, conceptualizing words which skittered away from her like playful colts. a sight dat others don't.