Each week, Weekend Writing Warriors presents a selection of excerpts from writers in a variety of genres. Check out the other offerings here.
It was one of the nights at the coffee-farm I read that old poem, the one about the curse, where the speaker prays to the dark gods to be an orphan out of story. Story as curse. I like that, but I don’t know what story I belong to.
I’m already an orphan. My parents are not my parents. My gene-parents are more than six hundred years dead. All who knew me the first time are dead.
But that wasn’t me they knew.
A prayer out of deep antiquity strikes a chord. Character interview for NaNoWriMo 2016 project The Clone’s Complaint.