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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2026
Submitted to Contest #336
I am oft misnamed a god, but among my mortal shortcomings one certainty proclaims itself the most plainly: a god cannot starve. I am famished to the point of death. I know it is September by the upset stomach of the North Sea, by her grinding teeth and grey muscle. Having long lost count of the turning tides since my last feed, I've taken to tracking the passing moons instead. I hear the warnings bellowed between sun-freckled sailors on the shores of Orkney to heed my outline in shallow waters, but I am not so close. Ever too much air. I tr...
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