Running Close to the Wind

by Alexandra Rowland

If you decide to throw me overboard anyway, I would prefer if you do so in one of the sea serpent breeding swarms, so that you can tell people I died in a massive fuckpile like I have always dreamed of. Promise?”

“And think fucking carefully about whose side you want to be on. A country cannot be your friend, especially not the richest country in the world, whose singular goal is to preserve their own wealth and power.

“I am a poet, Julian, of course I am crying!” Avra wailed. “A poet’s whole job is to celebrate sluts and cry about beautiful things coming to tragic, untimely ends!” “Ah,” said Julian solemnly. “Of course.”

Sharing knowledge freely and openly is a great act of piety, perhaps the greatest of them all.

“Having no money brings a whole host of problems,” Julian said. Avra could just see that he was stroking Teveri’s knuckles with his thumbs as he squeezed their hands. “But having too much money does too. It sucks your soul dry, eventually. Even a sweet-natured and well-intentioned person starts making decisions based on protecting the money rather than helping other people. It becomes a burden—a god that you’re shackled to, one that’s even more difficult to abandon than the others you’ve already turned away from.”