Hurt for Me

by Heather Levy

It was better to buoy her with lies than drown her in a truth that would crush her.

“Action without intention is like a novice artist slapping clay around, making a mess of it like you are now,” Viv once told her during a particularly grueling training session. “But if you put intention behind your commands, behind every impact on skin, that’s when clay shapes into art. That’s when you can create a masterpiece with a person’s desires.”

“Sometimes I forget,” Viv said, almost in a whisper. “Forget what?” Viv finally looked at her, the yellow streetlights creating a shadow mosaic across her face. “How dangerous wounded animals can be.”