"Angelo?" I whispered.
He is a heavy sleeper. He sprawled like a figure in an El Greco painting: green skinned, unnaturally long. Lying beside him, I probed the space inside me the way you might push your tongue into the gap left by a missing tooth.
"Angelo?" I whispered.
He is a heavy sleeper. He sprawled like a figure in an El Greco painting: green skinned, unnaturally long. Lying beside him, I probed the space inside me the way you might push your tongue into the gap left by a missing tooth.
