No Such Thing by Nissa Harlow

Author:Nissa Harlow [Harlow, Nissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781777744694
Publisher: Nimble Hope Publishing

When I wake up the next morning, my wings feel frozen. The dead leaves around me are rimed with frost; the ones closest to my body have turned into a brown mush that smells of decay. I stand up, hoping my brittle-feeling limbs don’t snap like frozen twigs, and walk around the clearing a few times, vigorously flapping my wings to try to get the blood flowing. I rise up on my toes for a moment, feeling strangely buoyant. When I fold the wings against my back, my heels sink to the ground.

The eggs are chilly in their little cardboard carton. There are five nestled into their divots, leaving one empty spot. I eat three of them, tossing them back like the jelly beans I used to love as a kid, and close the carton back up before setting it aside. The book with the ridiculously handsome angel on the cover sits on top. I slide it carefully to the side and pick up the other one. I have no idea what it’s about, and since the dust jacket is missing, I have no way of finding out until I read it. The expression Tegan wore yesterday when she offered me the book makes me a little wary, but . . . let’s face it. I have nothing else to do.

Since returning, since being around her, I feel . . . more like myself. I don’t know what happened out there by that creek, but I don’t even like to think about it now. Going for days without speaking; gorging myself on live chickens; killing the dog; mutilating my own body in that unspeakable, self-loathing rage . . . Looking back, it was like I’d temporarily lost . . . something. The thought that I might lose it again terrifies me. When I settle myself down in the lukewarm nest, gripping the book tightly in my gloved hands as if it’s my last connection to the human world, I promise myself I’m going to make the most of these last days before the inevitable end. While there’s still a chance, no matter how small, that the curse can be broken, I’m going to hold on to my dream of being human again. When November first comes . . . well, then, I guess I’ll have to let it go. But I can make the choice to be civilized now. I can be Tegan’s friend for a few more days. Even though I know, deep down, nothing will come of it and I’m just deluding myself, the thought of enjoying all these normal things—books, conversation, friendship—brings me a sort of comfort that warms me from the tips of my webbed toes to the top of my smooth, blackened scalp.

I’m a pretty fast reader, having taught myself a form of speed reading when I was eleven (what else did I have to occupy my time?), so I make it through the first half of the book almost faster than my awkwardly gloved fingers can turn the pages.

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