to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Enamored with the marshmallow she’d plonked down on her stick, intending to roast and toast it once more, Melita forgot she’d been telling the tale (an origin story, really) when Milo asked his question, and brought her out of the particular reverie. “He began to destroy the world.” Ominous, even if her telltale smile was etched there, and it’d been a completely horrific experience.She grabbed another stick and outlined the words ‘Kisamoa’ in the dirt, so the fire reflected its implementation. Thereafter, she rearranged the letters underneath, so the anagram pilfered and cycled into what it had been all along: I am Kaos. “He opened up a portal while he slayed gods and anyone attempting to defy him. Some escaped, but many were lost.” Terror and destruction, vile, vile upheavals where beloved deities became nothing but dust. Where beloved mothers pushed their daughters into Rifts and prayed for a better world. “Only after they’d tumbled into the Rift, did the ghosts come.”
to be the sun
MELITA
