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Back Black Ambrosia Save as PDF
Chapters (46)
  1. CoverImage
  2. Introduction by Grady Hendrix
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. About the Author
  46. About the Cover

I twirled my cape around him and gave him my love. In the window. In the light. And I tasted the aspirin, oh, how his pain never receded. And I tasted the wine he drank and the sugar in the food he ate, I tasted the pain and more pain and the isolation and anguish, and the comics crinkled and shifted wetly beneath us and Boyd looked on at it all, and I didn’t care.

And neither did Joshua.

“As soon as I saw the headlines in the Denver paper, I found Seven Slopes on the map and took off. I didn’t sleep much the night before, so I was kind of spacey as I drove. I just remember two things from that trip. One is that I drove too fucking fast, I knew it at the time, but I just wanted to catch her, to have it be over, to nail her and have her put away. Away from society and out of my mind. I was too tired and I drove too fast. Luckily, I didn’t have any problems.

“The other thing I remember was a phrase that kept running through my mind. Know how sometimes a song will get stuck in your head? Well, from the time I saw that headline, grabbed my suitcase, and was out the door, until the time I pulled into Seven Slopes, the thought that wound around my head was this: How could she . . . How could she snuggle up so warm and close to a guy and then just suck him dry? In the front window of a store, for Christ’s sake.”

22

22

Faint strains of music with a melancholy cant hung suspended in the air above me. They moved slowly, sluggishly; I urged them with a little nudge of my psyche: Liven up, become more, give me, give me . . . praise. Let me soar, take me with you and let us sing the music of the spheres!

But instead, it felt as if it were dying, it slowly wound down with a sickening grate, like a scratched phonograph record when the plug has been pulled.

I awakened slowly, feeling first the cold that had seeped into my bones during my sleep. I felt the darkness around me and it was good, it was comfort­able, and I felt the hard wood beneath me and around me and it was secure, it was close, it was good.

And then I remembered Joshua, and my stomach lurched with a vile shudder. I saw his face, not in peace, but with a gruesome grin at death.

I pushed the lid of my box open and gulped fresh air. My apartment was pitch-­black. My head swirled in sweeps of dizziness, I had to hold it with both hands to still it. Slowly I climbed out of the box and down from the table, steadying myself for a moment before dashing into the bathroom to lose everything my stomach contained.