A Cynical Mind
“I’m actually here for an interview,” I say. “One of my ex-husbands told me I need to get a job.”
“I’m actually here for an interview,” I say. “One of my ex-husbands told me I need to get a job.”
The rune dissolves, and the black ink liquid moves and shifts from my hand as if to say, See you soon, Thanatos. We remember. I remember the hot and dry desert air, the cocky sneer of the djinn, his eyes alight with blue fire, and the permanent look of surprise on his face as his head hit the ground and rolled to the feet of his father.
“We all change,” I reply, repeating his words back to him before slowly squeezing his hand. He doesn’t jerk away from me this time, but instead runs his thumb over the back of mine.
He takes a deep breath before meeting my eyes. “I have to know. It was never real, was it? You never loved me? You used me.”
I hold his gaze, so he knows I mean every word. “I use everyone.”
My eyes glow as I see their reflection in hers. The shelves next to us shake as I release some of my power. A child. Who messes with a child’s brain in such a manner?