If the living could see all that light, the city maps drawn under the skin, they’d be awestruck. Looking at Ruby and Josh right now, they’d see how nervousness and anticipation might seem the same on the surface, but they’re so very different at the source. Nervousness is rushing water, river mouths, but anticipation is something far more delicate, little bubbles that go pop, one bright burst after another, until the body is a glass of champagne, a million golden beads of air, rising.
