The Palero’s voice merged in and out of feminine and masculine tone. Its eyes remained close. Its wrinkled chest rose and fell at a steady rhythm. Every time we placed a blanket or sheet on the brown, naked body. The cloth would smoke and burn right before us. We were forced to just leave it on the cement floor in my office in fear the Palero’s body temperature would burn more. Groaning in pain, the Palero rolled over to its other side. “When we flew, you told me you loved me, but it was all a lie wasn’t it?” I looked at Angel as we both sat across from the Palero, flipping through all the districts’ newspapers and trying to catch up on the time we’d missed in being underground with the Vampires. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know what it’s talking about.” Angel tucked blond strands behind her ear. She had them in a pattern of waves that began at her roots and journeyed down to barely hit her shoulder.
What do You think about Wildfire Gospel (Habitat)?
