Geryon sat staring out over the roofs into the darkness. The Pacific at night is red and gives off a soot of desire. Every ten meters or so along the seawall Geryon could see small twined couples. They looked like dolls. Geryon wished he could envy them but he did not. I have to get out of this place, he thought. Immortal or not. He climbed into his sleeping bag and slept until dawn without moving.
