An Education in Malice

by S.T. Gibson

She was like a modern-day princess, with a face sculpted by generations of thoroughbred intermarriage and a mouth shaped for giving orders.

I domesticated my own wildness, starved the odd appetites inside me.

I often felt like a wolf wearing the skin of a girl, balancing on two legs and hoping no one would notice.

She kissed me with a martyr’s agonized desperation, like I was the only sword she ever wanted to fall on. I kissed her right back like the cutting edge of a blade, trying to inflict as much damage as possible.

She wanted to swallow this night down whole, like a snake might do with a baby bird, and spit up nothing but bones.