Grace Marks II

“Good book?” Vincent wrapped a hand around his wife’s foot, flopping lazily in the air. Laid on her stomach, chin in her fist, she hardly seemed pregnant. Though Vincent knew better. She had a smell about her, certainly something he’d conjured on his own. A sweet smell. Her hormones mixing with his. Her breasts bulging from her shirt. Skin soft and sticky much the same way well-rested dough was.

“Alias Grace. Ironic, I know.” Blue closed the book. Peered over her shoulder. Kicked against his hand playfully.

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s about caring more about getting someone in prison than committing the crime,” She paused. Staring blankly at the cover. “Well, it’s mostly about only finding women interesting when they’re whorish or evil.”

“Maybe you should be reading something happier.” He was now sat beside her, the mattress bending to his weight, her dress crept up the backs of her t