Eidolon Avenue: The First Feast
Crawling on hands and swollen knees to the coffee table, he grabbed a mug, praying there was a swallow of something at the bottom.
There was.
It was time, he thought, as he shoved
five blue, seven red, four yellow
into his mouth.
***
“Why ‘Bullet?’” Eve had said. It was dark. Too dark. Like, a weird kinda dark that felt thick and somehow wrong. He could hear her and smell her, feel her in his arms, but he couldn’t see her as they stretched out on the mattress.
“Pop always said I was dumber than shit,” he’d said. “That I musta been born with a bullet to the brains or something. And it just stuck.”
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