Tuesday, June 05, 2012


She was the picture of joyous abandon, soaking wet, barefoot, smiling. She paused under the sign for Love Street. If she’d been anything but human, I would have thought the hesitation contrived for my benefit.

I stepped out of the alley. Her smile faded. She clutched her red purse, thinking me a thief.

“I couldn’t have concocted a better scenario,” I said.

“Me neither.” Her smile returned as she opened her purse to reveal a rosary floating in rainwater.

The storm hid my steaming flesh, covered ragged screams, allowed her time to dispel me from my host.

Goddamn nuns anyway.

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