She looked over the top of her book, her eyes once again driving a dagger of passion into my heart and said, “Well Captain Morgan, if you must know,...I’m heading to Norwich to live with my aunt and uncle.” Being she was barely 20 years old, I asked “Where’s the rest of your family?” Immediately I sensed I asked a question which was difficult for her to answer as I noticed tears quickly welling up in those gorgeous eyes. “My family was killed. ’ My hands are, my arms, most of my legs. My face is red and yellow, even to the insides of my ears. I stand in the white light and cover my hands from the bowl of inky food coloring before me, running them up my chest to my throat, rivulets of indigo curling around my breasts. Quiet the way you are, your hands reaching around me to dip into the bowl. I watch, half fascinated by your palms turning blue, half distracted by your breath on my neck. Then your hands are at the small of my back,. More

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