As Above, So Below

by Dana Isaly

Six crows fly overhead. “One for sorrow, two for mirth. Three for a funeral, four for birth. Five for heaven, six for hell,” I murmur.

You have to fight for yourself because no one else will.

Why do all the Gods have to be so fucking cryptic. Just spell it the fuck out for people. If you’re going to help a mortal, help them.