When she's not talking to herself, Sisi Aset dreamed of immortality. It was not because she feared death, rather it was the fear of growing gray, of breaking bones and of woohooing with the risk of embarrassing moments. During her lifetime, she was mistaken as the goddess Isis herself. And it was this complement that made Sisi believe that she was a goddess reincarnated into a mortal body.
This depressed her. Pillow cases were drenched in tears. The phone bill was expensive due to hours and hours spent on the Sadness Hotline. Her blog mostly consisted of sadness and injustice of this cruel world.
But she had come across the Simcronomicon. An ancient text filled with the occult, the demonic and a recipe for Ambrosia Mac & Cheese.
There were four easy steps. The first step was mastery of the written word. It was said that the bird was the word, which mean that the word ascends through ethereal planes.
So Sisi pushed on to become a writer. Years and years of hair pulling, publishing negotiations and crying over the phone, Sisi finally attained the first step in becoming an immortal. Although the easy part is over, the next part scared her.
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