Neil San Francisco On Demons and Deities

“I wonder why certain archetypes — monsters if you will — are so constant throughout history?” Ryan whispers.

Neil lies immobile in a hospital the colorless color of tapioca. He is glad of Ryan’s voice filling the emptiness.

I think I’d go crazy if I were all alone here, he thinks. Then he laughs. The pain takes his breath away. But the ghost of a smile shades his face. Most people wouldn’t consider talking to your dead uncle a sign of sanity.

“You,” Ryan says, “are not most people.”

Neil is not surprised that Ryan can hear his thoughts.