Lake Lewisia #987

She met him when he had just shed his new antlers for the first time, shivering in February's chill in a threadbare coat, stumbling with every step from the sudden shift in his center of balance. It was easy to pass him one of her chemical hand warmers and let him link an arm through hers until they made it into the heated lobby of the library. Months later, writhing in bed with aches and itchiness as her skin shed, she thought of the soft and bloody velvet falling from his next set of antlers, and she picked up the phone to see if he would hold her own fragile body in return.

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LL#987