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Silva’s lover was built of bones she scavenged from the Killing Fields. A shard of gleaming femur here, a handful of vertebrae there. She held him together with wire and glue and the most charming of ribbons. When she put his jawbone into place, he opened and shut it a few times to make sure it was working correctly. It fit nicely, and he grinned, as skeletons are wont to do. His hollow sockets glowed with something deeper than dark magic. They glowed with love.

Форма: рассказ

Первая публикация: 2017

Язык: Английский

Номинант: 2018 г.Премия Брэма Стокера (Рассказ)

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