THE AIR
THE MOLECULES YOU ARE BREATHING IN AND OUT
I CAN SEE YOUR LUNGS
I DO noT LiKE THem
I woULD like to LEAVE
“Where’s your Rolodex at?” Seymour searched the ground, trying not to look at the blood.
“Here!” Day scooped it up from where it had fallen out of Shiloh’s hands. “I can watch him. I will not lose him.”
“Thanks, kitty girl.” Seymour lightly toed the stone. “You, uh, gonna be okay, Izba? Like, when we leave, you’re comin’ with us, right?”
I beLIEVe SO
“It is time to go now.” Sariel gently lifted Shiloh into his arms, using his muscular bits to keep him level. “I have done all I can to ensure that he will be stable for transportation, but we must leave.”
“And areyouokay?” Seymour gently touched Sariel’s arm.
Sariel’s wing remained tucked back, and a long stream of golden blood continued to drip. His eyes fluttered, and he nodded his giant head. “Once we leave this place, yes.”
“All right. Let’s get to gettin’.” Seymour scooped Day up on his shoulder and hurried toward the door. He looked back several times to make sure Sariel and Shiloh were still behind him and that no other monsters had decided to appear.
When they reached the door, it was then that Seymour realized there was no knob.
Fuck it.
He pulled his keys out of his pocket so he could select the one from his father. As before, it moved on its own, drawn to the door and making a distinct click as if it had been pressed into a keyhole. There was another click, and the door opened.
On the other side was a lush garden. There was a large fancy house with tall spires and a wraparound porch, endless rows of roses in every color imaginable, and two women were having a tea party beneath a white trellis covered in purple and blue flowering vines.
There was also a naked man with a big mustache digging a hole.
Oh, and he was on fire.
Seymour turned to ask Sariel if they should try another door—maybe one with less people on fire—but the world of crazy twisting paths were gone. He whipped his head forward to stare at the man on fire, finding they were all inside the garden now, though they hadn’t actually stepped through the doorway.
God, this place was nuts.
The women were seated on white wicker furniture, and they cackled as they watched the man burn and scream in pain. They each wore high-collared dresses and big hats adorned with tall feathers and fresh flowers. Every inch of them seemed to sparklewith a jewel, a bauble, or some sort of shiny embroidery, and they were completely surrounded by tables stacked with tray after tray of tarts, cookies, and cakes.
One woman had red hair, and she giggled between sips of tea. “Too hot for you, dear?”
“Would you like to cool off?” taunted the other woman, a brunette.
“Please.. For the love of God…” The man cried. “Please have mercy?—”
The redhead flicked her fingers, and the flames roared even higher.
As he screamed hysterically, the women burst out laughing.
The grass by Seymour’s feet stirred, and words appeared in the shadows.
THeY SEEM LOVELY
NOT
