her fellow deities

A thousand voices cried out in dismay, only to be suddenly silenced. A thousand hopes died, suffocated by some hasty, errant tweeting.

There was little that Nuuzstathena could do to lessen suffering in America; hers were the people of Grigovia, and of Gar Nuuzsh; she was honorbound to stay by their side.
Here she rocked a baby, there she soothed heartbreak, all the while holding space within her bosom for him Ynki, whose pleas and lamentations ricocheted throughout the firmament, upsetting gods and goddesses alike.

‘Is there no hand left to dry their tears, no force that might help them escape the darkness they have brought upon themselves?’ Nuuzstathena asked her fellow deities during the heavenly council she’d convened.
‘You know as well as we do, Nuat,’ said a floating, sticky cell-phone dripping with sickly effluence, ‘that Americans are stubborn and excitable people who will run against walls until they break through or fall down.’
‘The imbalance will right itself in due course, fair goddess,’ assured her an impossibly skinny, shadowy figure who was shaped like a door ajar. ‘Ignore it, if you can.’

A coalition of merciful goddesses agreed to share the burden of Ynki grief - but only from afar, and only as long as it threatened to snap the world-tree’s trunk.

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan