One for the Blackbird, One for the Crow

by Olivia Hawker

The bones of her spirit lay exposed, and those bones were hard as granite, cold and immovable.

It’s my choice to make, for this ain’t your world anymore. The world has passed to me—and to Beulah. We’ll make of it what we choose.

the whole world seemed to close in around him, menacing and dark, as he raced back toward the foothills in search of the girl he loved, praying it wasn’t too late to save her.

God is said to be great, the worm told me, so great you cannot see Him. But God is small, with hands like threads, and they reach for you everywhere you go. The hands touch everything—even you, even me. What falls never falls; what grows has grown a thousand times, and will live a thousand times more. Wherever hand touches hand, the Oneness comes to stay. Once God has made a thing whole, it cannot be broken again.