10/03/2020 Snippet, PATCHWORK GOD.

Cosgrove and Stewart return!


Jack and I, we have one particular thing in common with each other, and I guess with fishermen; we dream of the ones that get away. Or maybe ‘dream’ isn’t the right word. ‘Brood’ might work better.

It’s never happened to us, or at least not directly. When it comes to finding and killing Blasphemous Tomes, we were lucky until we got good, and I think both of us are pretty much ready to die rather than fail. When you have that kind of motivation, you get results. You also get to wonder whether today gets to be the day when ‘death’ and ‘failure’ are the only two options… What, you think these are gloomy thoughts? This is water-cooler banter, not that we usually have the time to stand around a water cooler.

At the moment, we didn’t have much else except time. This intervention was a bad one: the Blasphemous Tome we were hunting down had taken root within a reasonably blameless nonprofit, and was now on the verge of creating a community-driven participatory action that would gear up to capacity-build the existing donor pipeline into a steady stream of eternally screaming energy batteries…