Candas Jane Dorsey by Black Wine (epub)

Author:Black Wine (epub)
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-06T00:00:00+00:00

Life in the zone of control (5)

She sees the Carrier in the garden. As she gets closer, she realizes that the big man with whom the Carrier talks is Escape-from-bondage. His hands are flying, but she can’t read his conversation through the branches and the Carrier’s shoulder. She feels a tension in her belly, moves closer quietly, thinking to eavesdrop, but before she can, she sees Escape-from-bondage lean over and kiss the Carrier on the lips. She hears the peal of laughter from the Carrier as the two draw apart. Essa feels a fistful of connectors pull and twist in her belly. It is envy, she realizes, but she does not know, she thinks with a start, which one she envies most. The Carrier pats Escape-from-bondage’s face, her hands symmetrically arranged on either side of his cheeks, and he smiles, turns and slips away with that preternatural lightness which is to Essa the big man’s chief identifying characteristic. When Essa comes down the path into the Carrier’s view, the woman is sitting on the bench in the sunlight, the blue highlights in her raven hair gleaming almost like the sea, or like black wine in a clear Sailor Town goblet.

As Essa remembers that, and the ravens of home, without thinking she touches the Carrier’s hair, then draws back, blushing. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking.”

“Your head is slower than your hands, these days. I imagine it is because you have the injury,” and the Carrier reverses Essa’s gesture, one of those small hands touching Essa’s head where the scars lie under her hair. Essa shivers in the sunlight, draws back surprised not at the touch but at the shiver.

As she moves away, the Carrier’s hand drops, but the sensation of touch does not go away. It is as if the Carrier has attached one of those invisible strands such as Essa has just felt in her belly, this one to the point where the woman’s hand made its contact, and as she moves away the connector stretches into something thin as a hair which binds Essa to the woman irrevocably.

Essa backs away, thinking in one part, I am being rude, but unable to do more than say, “Excuse me, I’ll see you later, I hope, I must go, excuse me,” before she is safely behind the screen of bushes. She brushes with her hand at her head, as if to dislodge a spiderweb with which she had collided on a run through the woods of home. The thread will not brush away. As she gets further away from the Carrier it is easier to ignore. But it is not gone.

Essa dreams of the Carrier of Spirits’ breasts. She dreams she cups them in her hands, and the tiny women imprisoned there bite her fingers. That’s what happens when you try to fuck the gods, she says to the Carrier, they fuck you a little too. The woman’s laugh wakes her up into a pearlized pre-dawn, unable to sleep again. She gets

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