He only wanted to tell her the gate was broken. It was so flimsy, anyone could break in. The garden was immaculately kept for one woman. They said to take his soul, he heard it too but thought it was a dream.
She promised him a duck confit and her legs stretched like highways. He followed her up the stairs – the portraits stared back at him, told him to run. But she was too beautiful, so he followed his feet to the bedroom. Blue eyes. Black eyes.