Six Things She Said
Alice woke Jake in the middle of a sentence. “When I was sixteen,” she was saying, “I pretended I had a year to live. I imagined death getting closer every day. It changed me.” Jake rubbed his eyes open. They lay naked, next to each other, though a cool, linen sheet covered his ankles. Their bodies contrasted: his dark, hers creamy, blotched with pink blooms, like clouds at sunset. Alice lay on her back, looking out throu...
