All the Names They Used for God

by Anjali Sachdeva

He drank her in with his eyes as though the very sight of her were delightful.

Nights are so bitter she can’t bear to be outdoors very long, but when the sky is unclouded she wraps herself in her quilt and lies in the snow looking at the riot of stars that fills every inch of the sky, so clear she feels she could prick her face against them if she stood up too quickly.

“And one other thing. You let me sleep in peace tonight.” “Don’t even have to say that,” he replies sulkily. “I’m not that kind of man.” “I didn’t know it was a kind.”

The ground was hard and gritty, and for all he knew you could drag an elephant across it with a backhoe and not leave any trace.

Well, it’s a hard time getting anything in this life without taking it from someone else.”