Debt

by Nina G. Jones

moments are fleeting.

My dad used to warn me that the devil doesn’t have horns and a pitchfork, he’ll appear as the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He’ll make you laugh. He’ll make you feel good. You’ll do things you never thought you would, but he’ll tell you it’s okay. And before you know it, you’ve sold your soul to him. That’s how I know Tax is my devil.

I’ve never cared about doing the right thing, I just wanted the just thing. An eye for a motherfucking eye.

We are the thing of beauty created from catastrophe. We are the light burning bright, forged from an impossible collection of coincidences.