She looks at me through half-closed eyes, the flame flickering over her face in a way that makes her look haunted, or haunting.
I lean forward, close enough to smell the almond sun lotion she’d put on for our earlier tanning session in the backyard. My movement extinguishes the flame, plunging us into momentary darkness. Then the flick of the lighter and her eyes are staring into mine, daring me to finish what I’d started.
—With thanks to 'One Does Not Simply Walk out of Prairie Village, Ohio' by Amorak Huey
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