Voyage of the Damned

by Frances White

Nergüi.

Goddess, his dark skin looks so smooth. ‘To the corner.’ The corner. Nice.

Mhmm so sexy

By the time we’re there he’s so close I can smell his scent. A collision of coal dust and lavender. Smoky and floral. He still smells the same. He’s still my Ravi.

Yes he is boy

I don’t drink straight from the bottle. I’m not a monster.

Word.

A twitch of a smile. ‘And that’s why you’re wrong. The hero isn’t the dragon. The hero is the fish.’ My arms drop. ‘The fish?’ ‘The fish did not have to share the burden. The fish could have survived without it. But it sacrificed itself because it saw the suffering of others. The world would have been doomed without the fish.’ She holds my gaze, her expression utterly serious. And in that moment, I am, for once, speechless.

My heart swells. That’s a good way to categorize the world—to eat or to love. Although sometimes things can be both. I smirk.