He heard his name. He was standing on the earth and on the sea. One of his legs was on the earth and the other in the sea. He knew that the call he had heard would have an effect soonest. He was waiting for it. The call of his name meant that he who he was awaiting was right in the corner. He could smell that. He could sense. He wasn't waiting for it. He knew that he wouldn't have to wait forever. He knew that he wouldn't be stayed. Who dared to stay him? He was yet to see that kinda person. He was yet to know that kinda person. He was yet to meet that kinda person. Person? That should be a litotes. He hadn't seen that kinda god. He was matter-of-factly the father of all gods. He knew what he had done and would do and could do. He wanted the urgency to send a shrill through his spines and connect with the torn torrents puked by the waves of the sea he was having his left leg in. He had learnt his

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