Check out the update to The Eyes of God:

Then placing its beady, monochrome eye upon me, it shouts, “Murder!”

The bird’s word covers me in a cold fire. I burn with chills, falling into the canyon’s wall. Sliding down, I’m partly buried in the loose dirt, the dust a veil of wind between me and Oraculi, the raven oracle. Coughing, I rub my eyes clean of the sweaty mud covering them. Unblinded, I find the bird at my feet. Seeing him, my muscles lock up, pressing me into the wall.

Hopping onto my toe, he proclaims with outspread wings, “You seek water. It comes from the Mountain. All comes from the Mountain; all returns to the Mountain.” Flapping, he flies into my chest, “You seek the water?”

Sitting as like a boulder over my lungs, the oracle presses me to answer. Wheezing, I whisper, “I seek the water.”

Alighting at my words, he flies out of sight into the air, shouting in his cawing tones, “Return to the Mountain.”

I lose sight of him, his silhouette shrinking into the sun. Sitting in silence, I watch a contingent of beetles approaching my leg. “The Mountain,” I mumble to myself, not noticing the six legs crawling over my ankle. Leaping to my feet, I kick off the tiny, black insect, its bite still stinging. My fresh blood drips into the dry riverbed as the swarm of blind bugs all forsake their corpse-home, and in one mass, like a passing shadow, race towards me.