Mr. Fox

by Helen Oyeyemi

“Same as always—in love with you, Mary,” I told her. I wished to hell I wouldn’t keep telling her that. I don’t think it’s even true. But whenever she’s around I feel as if I should give it a try. I mean, it would be interesting if she believed me.

He was going to die soon, so now his words were important and had special meaning. That’s what they wanted me to believe. It was disgusting. . . .