“Guy is standing in front of me in the hallway. We have just survived another French class. He has a tattoo on his wrist: a red heart pierced by a black sword. I wonder why I didn’t notice it before. A small white cardboard box rests in the palm of his hand. “What is it?” I ask. “Open it.” I take the box and lift the lid. Inside, resting on a pillow of cotton, is a pale green object about an inch and a quarter long. It is smooth and semi-translucent, as if carved from jade. Its shape that of an ...imperfect cylinder. One end is bullet-shaped with a tiny black stem in the center; the other end is asymmetrical, like the point of a used green lipstick. A row of tiny metallic gold dots circle one end, looking as if they had been applied by a steady hand with the smallest imaginable paintbrush. I touch it gently with the tip of my finger. It is firm, but not hard like stone. It is neither warm nor cool. I think of plastic, but with a softer, more organic feel. “What is it?” “A chrysalis.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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