He fumbled with the striker over coconut husks, then touched a wick to the flame. Stashing Tiki’s gift with other finds, he drank straight from his bucket, pouring the last of the water over his face and chest. He stepped out of his wet underpants and draped them across one of the knobs protruding from the wall. He shook hidden bugs from his sleeping matt, then grabbed the candle and went around the room touching the flame to all the others. “Deck the fucking halls,” he sang, and dropped onto his matt. His useless member stared up at him with one black eye. Numb genitals hadn’t been an issue with Sarah. She’d repeatedly crushed his heart while questioning his spine, but even the darkest times would find him skulking away with a semi-erection. On the final Christmas break from school, he’d tucked a heavily flawed diamond engagement ring into his front pocket. It was the beginning of an ice storm, a light rain falling and freezing to everything, a sugary coating that caused tree limbs to reach toward the dead grass.
