Tag Archives: The Good Son

“Shout.” Jacob looked at the door.  “Really?” Pilate nodded.  He muttered more Sumerian, gesturing over his own face.  Then he stepped closer, leaned forward, and cupped one hand around his hear.  “Shout it as loud as you can.” “Okay.”  Jacob … Continue reading →

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“Why is everything in your father’s kingdom so ugly?” she asked. “I don’t know if it’s ugly,” Jim said, “so much as it’s homemade.” “What, Heaven has all the factories?” Jim nodded.  “Which means that Hell has a punk aesthetic.”  … Continue reading →

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“I did not intend any of this.” Jacob Bar Azazel looked up at his father.  Jacob was as small as any of the children of men, wiry and strong but little.  His father, though with sorcerous operations he had reformed … Continue reading →

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