The Incendiaries

by R.O. Kwon

I have the outline, bits of conversation. Fitful images. Wide swaths of it, though, have blurred as in old film. Is that the problem? I’ve reviewed this initial feast with them so often I’ve smudged it with my fingerprints.

I crept beneath the blanket, she turned toward me, still unconscious, wrapping me in limbs and warmth, this bleeding, feverish creature I didn’t know how to stop wanting.