[fiction]
Dear Liza
by Ellie Sands
“There’s nothing worse than cold, damp hands. Nothing good comes from them,” the gritty man says. “It’s a sign that you’re in the wrong place, just between you and me.”
“Then where do I go?” Liza asks, covering the lower half of her body with a blanket.
“There are a thousand questions to ask before we answer that one. But it purifies the soul to f*ck like this. It purifies it to f*ck.”
“What’s ‘it’?” Liza asks.
“It’s nothing,” the gritty man says, fondling her breasts. “There’s a fork in the road, dear Liza, dear Liza, a fork. There is a fork in the f*cking, dear Liza, a fork. It’s f*cking that purifies the soul, and death that wipes the slate clean.”
ES