A Lower Deep - a Self Novel About 3300 Wds
“The north side of the trunk had been sheared off that night by lightning, and it spawned new mutant leaves that remained green even now as the freezing wind blew.Our covine tree stood as an ode to irony—our kind had been hanged from it, burned upon it, nailed to it, and still it lived, and still we lived. My father muttered to himself and continually regarded me as if he retained his mind. He wedged his fingers into his ears or puffed out his cheeks as if he were the entertainment at a children's party.Bridgett enjoyed touching the dead and moved her hands over his white face, kissing and licking his nose, trailing her fingers over his groin. In life my father would have tried to persuade her from her path, but eventually he would have been beaten down by her nature and given in. He always had.Thummim swung from Bridgett's left breast, and Self dangled from the right, taking turns suckling the witch's teat."Sex majik won't work at this stage," I told her."In resurrecting witches? No, ...I'm sure, but when it's needed there's no one with as much natural talent as me.""So you keep saying."Piercing green eyes like sharpened jade, offset by those dark brows—her features contained even more than she knew.MoreLess
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