Then the girl spoke to the child. She told him she’d rather it remain this way between them.
That she’d rather their story not move from this place, even if the child didn’t understand her; that it remain in this desire, even if that meant she put herself to death. Not a real death, mind you, but a dead death, where you don’t hurt, where you’re never sad, you’re never punished, nothing.
She said, “It should be completely impossible.”
Tonight I read Yann Andrea Steiner.