Sharma Shields
children running carefree in the streets. Their bloodstreams carried no traces of cement yet, but as they grew older they would feel their bodies thicken. It made me happy to see them out there, so buoyant and free. Rold said something behind me. 1 shut my eyes and listened to the cries of the children. His arms went around me. He was laughing. He said he was also vigilant. He said he had seen me take his owl. One arm went around my throat. 1 brought my hands up and enfolded them around his forearm, the way a lover might. His muscles twitched wildly beneath my fingers. We went down to the floor this way; 1 was facing away from him. Pleasant bubbles of bright colors burst against my eyelids. He was kissing my cheek, 'rhe back of my neck. I heard nothing but my own blood washing over itself, coursing through me, the sounds of my interior mechanisms. The sounds of the children playing were gone. I wanted to tum my head to look but I was so blissfully tired. My head was in his lap. He released my throat and asked ifl was comfortabl~. He massaged my neck, my shoulders. I heard my heartbeat resume, loudly. "I'll take care of you," Rold said. "Relax." He began to unbutton my blouse. "I am," I said. ''I'm so happy." Tears sprang to my eyes. I was having trouble breathing. What if he didn't want me? What if 1 wasn't his type? "You're perfect," my serial kUler said. "You're so perfect." And in those next few minutes, I was. I!'
Winter路 Spring 2009
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