A Far Wilder Magic

by Allison Saft

Wes tips his face to the rain-swollen sky. “It’s a beautiful day for a walk.”

He seems kind enough now, but as soon as he tastes what it’s like to pull at the very fabric of the universe, he will change. They all do in the end.

He hates it. He hates how he admires her, how imagining her reading those books in her room at night has become his new favorite method of self-immolation, how vulnerable and desperate she makes him feel.

Love is not the sharp-edged thing she’s always believed it to be. It’s not like the sea, liable to slip through her fingers if she holds on too tight. It’s not a currency, something to be earned or denied or bartered for. Love can be steadfast. It can be certain and safe, or as wild as an open flame. It’s a slice of buttered bread at a dinner table. It’s a grudge born of worry. It’s broken skin pulled over swelling knuckles.