Far

by Sarah Diemer
 
 
 
 

Copyright 2011 by Sarah Diemer

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved

Edited by Jennifer Diemer

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One

Far was dead, and I could not live without her.

I bought her body with two coins and a kiss, paid for it like all of the other things on the dark markets--the monkey feet and star keys and lover brambles, bought and sold, pressed to palms in shadowed alleys, far away from the wandering gazes of the Gray Coats.  The Robber I hired didn't say much when I kissed him, when I gave him the coins.  He turned, and he disappeared into his warehouse, and I followed him and was sick along the inner wall, because the building smelled of death and ash and excrement.  I almost lost him in the dark because of my retching, but I stumbled after, willing myself to keep pace with his long strides, anger driving me forward when nothing else could.