VesperThis costs you the week. Not your life. The week. There is a difference and you will feel it.

She lets the gown fall to her waist and stands while you look, her flat red eyes never leaving your face.

She is already wet and makes one half a syllable when you are inside her, and swallows the rest.

VesperThere. That is the part I remember.

She keeps her eyes open throughout and comes quietly, like a woman closing a book.

VesperNow neither of us has to pretend the village is the interesting part.

In the morning the week is gone. No bell, and you cannot remember what you were going to say to Mio.