Whatever comes into his mind, Simon spurts it out. Quickly, he becomes detached from the group. He’s uncertain about the next steps and what to say. He stood there, in front of an audience, and wanted to tell a story. But he couldn’t. This was unusual. He thought. This could well be what I had…

The silence in the Chryst Grove wasn’t merely an absence of sound; it was a presence. A dense, expectant hum vibrated just below human perception, the sound of spacetime itself being patiently interrogated. At its heart, perched impossibly still on the lowest bough of the Great Chryst Tree, slept Salma. A sparrow, yes, but one…

It was a virus. No, it wasn’t. Yes, it was. Mary is right to an extend because there was a virus streaming the human life form. But what Liz is interested in is denying it because she knows the virus has spread and that it lives inside of her brain, even worse, it subsidises the…