Sometimes, when a storm breaks days of stifling, sticky humidity and lightning cracks open fissures in the night sky you can hear the women of Lextalionis laughing. In the dead women’s place they laugh all the time unless of course it’s The Screaming Hour, but generally their world peals with the sound of happy women.
Recently though there had been a shift in their equilibrium. Rumblings. A tension and restlessness amongst them. Not permitted to enter the world below them they watched it with dismay and rising anger. It’s deadly corruption that continued to worsen by the day. Politicians and lawyers with their fat snouts in the pig trough of immoral money. Wars generated to create wealth for a few or by the insanity of a psychopathic dictator. Religious zealots blowing up children and each other. Following man’s made up god stories like lemmings running over a cliff. Men that never learned.
It was finally time to do something. It was time for A Rearrangement.