The white skin and underlying blue veins were buried under a patchwork of bruises and red needle marks. Only the flesh on the inside of my elbow stood out. The scars had faded enough over the years that, given enough darkness or drink, a man might not notice the holy verses carved into my body. The scar tissue was as pale as the rest of my skin, but shinier and slightly sunken, like delicate embossing. They wound up from my wrists, marking inch after inch of my body with mechanical precision. Hundreds of small scars cut across the thin muscles of my bare arm. I had my own ruinous affair to cultivate. At last, I flicked her off my arm and rolled up my sleeve. She ate every scrap of evidence and then lounged on my sleeve with an innocent ease that could have fooled an Inquisitor.
I had to admire the firefly for her neatness. Some romances end more badly than others. Their flickering bodies blinked in perfect unison as she devoured him.
Holding him close, she crushed her powerful mandibles through his head. The female firefly reached out and stroked the male. They crept close to one another, brilliant desire flashing through their tiny bodies. They swooped past my face, circled, and then alighted inside the fold of my shirtsleeve. I watched them flicker, darting through their insectile courtship. A few fireflies blinked from what corners of blackness remained.Ī pair of them invaded the darkness of my rooms.
Heavy purple clouds pumped up from smoke stacks and patterned the sky like ugly patches on a black velvet curtain. Candles cast dull halos through the dirty windows of the tenements across the street.
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