As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
8 min @ Mercury Espresso
“Savour your moments.” His whisper is hot in her ear. The mercury sits at thirty three celsius. She’s no good with numbers but she knows it’s ‘hella hot’. She’s locked in his gaze but her focus is tracking the path his finger is tracing from her clavicle to her sternum. He is following the slow descent of a solitary bead of sweat. Years from now when she recalls the weekend her marriage ended, all the details of adultery are suspended in that one drop.
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