Calling of the Old Gods

I grew up in a town with one church bell. Everybody swore they

knew me well. Said, "Bow your head and your soul gets saved."

So I folded my hands like a child who obeyed. But the quiet

never felt like the stories they taught. And the voice that answered wasn't

one I sought. It whispered soft from the shadow tree. Said,

"Kid, you are different and you're meant to be." I lit my

first candle in the dark of night. I wasn't scared, just trying to

find the light. And what I heard didn't sound like him. It sounded like