We all sit around the fireplaces, the tanks, the fire seemingly, tonting our hungry looking faces. We had not left the room, no nine, heaven left, no until the ritual was over. We sat on the floor, crossed like it froze, and waiting for the first droplet. The ground smelled of dust, sea, spring had come and gone, but even the trees that hung onto their leaves grieved to hear them fall to the ground, raising tons of dust that hung above our heads like a friendly ghost come to boast. The rhythm of life got sing to the cries of the blaring goats. We had drank their blood and ate the flesh of their keen in and effort to keep so good to sting. The people were quiet, but each whispered in their minds, the truth unspeakable. The close to pool that stood atop the cathedral seemingly, fucking the sky red at hair, but...