She woke up in her own bed with two smudges of dark soot, one on her face and one on her pillow case. The Devil was in the kitchen frying up some bacon. Without thinking, she reached her hand to her throat and then down to her chest.
She wasn’t actually sure where the soul was situated or even if the Devil would take it from her immediately, and, even if he did, if there’d be some outward sign of it.
He came back into the bedroom, clicking the tongs in his left hand.
“Yeah,” she said. “I guess I could eat.”
I forgot to share this last night! I’ve now got squares of all the colors in the blanket, so you can see how they go together. And you can see how sitting them right next to each other really brings out the non-gray-ness in some of them. That one third from the bottom looks practically green. And you can see a noticeable difference between the two lighter grays. I can’t remember if I said this before, but I think it’s because there’s so much yellow in these colors, it really makes the palate seem warm in real life. More gray cat than gray raincloud.
In an unintended, but now hilarious to me, coincidence, my story, “Beyond, Behind, Below“–about what happens when you fuck with a dude’s ancient wreck of a cabin–is out the same day I argue we should tear down the United Methodist Publishing House building and not feel bad about it for even a second.
Anyway, check out the whole issue of Betwixt. There’s some really great stuff in there.
And then feel free to come back and tell me if you like the story.