Angel Town
“I stared down at him. His back was to me, and even in the dimness I could see he was skeletal. The sharp boniness of a hip under his boxers, ribs standing out in stark relief, shoulder blades like fragile wings. His head was too big for his neck, and he tipped it back. The silver moved in his hair, chiming sweetly, and a gout of something hot boiled up inside me. There was nothing in my stomach to throw up, but the shaking all through me demanded I do something. Kill whatever was hurting him, hold it down and put a bullet or twenty through its head— “Jill?” A faint whisper. He inhaled, another long rasping rattle.
As if he could smell me, as filthy as I was. Shame boiled through me. God, couldn’t I ever be clean?
No. You’ve never been clean, and he always was. Always.
The wetness on my cheeks was either tears or blood. “God,” I whispered back. “God.”
That managed to make him move. Slowly, painfully, hitching one hip up, rolling. My hands were fists. One of his scarecrow hands lifted, ...dropped back down on the white lace coverlet.MoreLess
As if he could smell me, as filthy as I was. Shame boiled through me. God, couldn’t I ever be clean?
No. You’ve never been clean, and he always was. Always.
The wetness on my cheeks was either tears or blood. “God,” I whispered back. “God.”
That managed to make him move. Slowly, painfully, hitching one hip up, rolling. My hands were fists. One of his scarecrow hands lifted, ...dropped back down on the white lace coverlet.MoreLess
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