Something More Than Night

Someone had awoken METATRON: the Voice of God. I knew that dame was trouble the minute I saw her.

A Power sidled into the diner. Say what you will about them, but they know how to make an entrance. An inky shadow wrapped in a lashing rain of ash and sleet, it rode on 144,000 constantly flickering legs of forked lightning. This particular jasper’s proper name was the basso profundo thrum of dark matter winging through the void, the fizz of neutrinos boiling off a moribund blue supergiant, and the bitter-tangerine taste of a quadrillion-dimension symmetry group. But I called it Sam for short.

It was the kind of place where hard drinkers came to wrestle their demons while fallen angels drank alone in dark smoky corners.