The oracle was reluctant one. She hated her job, hated answering questions. But every one wanted a map to heaven, and she had to make difficult choices. What no one realised was that it was purely a lottery. It was a divine scam.
Her mouth was once a gleaming side-board full of white china. Over time, help stole her legs from under her. Blood coloured her shame. Her heart grew in her womb and was born as her children who beat in her chest, allowing life to go on and flowers to grow even in winter.