“Faye rolled toward me so that our noses touched. Her eyes were open and rolled far back in her head. She smiled and ran a fingernail across my cheek, pretending to carve ribbons of flesh. She reminded me of a butcher delicately assessing a filet. “They’re gonna kill you,” she whispered–then licked my face.”

“Faye rolled toward me so that our noses touched. Her eyes were open and rolled far back in her head. She smiled and ran a fingernail across my cheek, pretending to carve ribbons of flesh. She reminded me of a butcher delicately assessing a filet. “They’re gonna kill you,” she whispered–then licked my face.”

— Felix Blackwell