Necromancy Chris Taylor
Go to the graveyard in the dead of night . Make sure no one sees . You ’ re not ready for the torches and pitchforks yet . Dig up some old grudges , maybe a few long-dead arguments . Quality , not quantity ; you can only keep so much in mind . Clutch it to your chest , where it can ’ t be seen . Don ’ t worry about getting a little bile on you ; there will be worse soon enough . Gather all the bits and pieces together in your home , in your heart . Turn each one over , find something that makes each unsuitable . This was resolved . You caused that . You don ’ t really care about that one . Use them anyway . Listen to your conscience . Stop listening to it . It ’ s getting in the way . Ask yourself why you ’ re doing this . Realize that it ’ s something petty and absurd . Keep going . Don ’ t bother justifying it to yourself . Sew the parts together . It doesn ’ t have to make sense ; it just has to look good . No – it has to look right . It has to look awful , larger than life . It has to look like what it is – a monster ripped from a nightmare-parody of the past , a stitched-up amalgamate of the worst things in life . Its appearance is the only honest thing about this venture . If you ’ re lucky , you can pass honesty off as good faith . It ’ s okay if a gripe or two falls off , or there are a few holes in it . The whole is greater than the sum of its parts ; the amalgam is the point , not the components . Besides , the damn thing ’ s so ugly , no one ’ s going to want to look at one spot for too long . As long as it ’ s hard to focus on it , the craftsmanship can be a little sloppy . And you probably shouldn ’ t be touching rotting emotions anyway . Cover it . Refrigerate . Wait for the right opportunity . Wait for a storm .
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