Today the cracks made themselves known . . . He was lurking around the Zone, lured by the patterns locked into the pavement. The city was undergoing massive metamorphism. Her streets buckled and splintered. A web was formed, like protein seeking fronds of fungi seep within the soil so the cracks roved across the slabs and walls. They formed a cryptic alphabet; the cuneiform scrawl of his goddess unfolded before his eyes.
Jason hates the city. It is diseased and festering around him. He hates the capitalist beast that romps in its streets and scoffs at him. But the city is poised to change. It might find salvation yet. Only Jason can see the Goddess of Cracks awakening, and he knows he must do her bidding.
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‘Here’s an author, like Dante, equally at home in Heaven and Hell. It’s incredible to relate, but Dave Migman evokes the Scottish countryside’s loveliness with power sufficient to counterbalance the harrowing urban hideosities and the gargoyles who leave slime trails on the cobblestones.’ —nth position
‘As you might expect the portrait of a life that Migman paints is relentlessly dark and unsettling. And yet it is leavened also by a kind of brutal poetry. The prose may be grim, but it is beautifully, glisteningly grim. Migman alternates between complex, keen and lucid descriptions and complete up-front baseness.’ —Neon Magazine
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