Disguised Amongst Mortals
If bliss was edible, this cookie would embody it. Your taste buds prick up and swell at each crumb that lands on your tongue, and the taste imprints itself onto your memory permanently. It's heaven in a dessert.
Annie smiles at you, prettily and innocently, and gives you a cloth — pastel pink, her favorite color, and honeysuckle-scented — to wipe your hands with.
"There's something I want to ask you, after school," Annie says. You find yourself bobbing your head. "But can you make me a promise before then?"
You bob your head again, like a buoy dropped into the ocean.
"Promise me that you'll stay alive, no matter what happens."
You blink. What could she mean by that? "That's so ominous."
"Promise me," she pleads, batting her eyes at you and pushing her lower, glossed lip at you.
Annie smiles at you, prettily and innocently, and gives you a cloth — pastel pink, her favorite color, and honeysuckle-scented — to wipe your hands with.
"There's something I want to ask you, after school," Annie says. You find yourself bobbing your head. "But can you make me a promise before then?"
You bob your head again, like a buoy dropped into the ocean.
"Promise me that you'll stay alive, no matter what happens."
You blink. What could she mean by that? "That's so ominous."
"Promise me," she pleads, batting her eyes at you and pushing her lower, glossed lip at you.