“sometimes I think they enjoy it.”

he placed the glass on a coaster as if it mattered.

“who is they?”

“predators. sometimes I think predators enjoy it.”

“do you enjoy it, sarah?”

I knew what he meant.

 “do you enjoy the kill?”

smiles don’t prove malefaction, they exhibit it.

“not the kill but the hunt.”

we sweat in silence for an instant. the water not cold enough. the apartment ablaze. my shelves sturdy and everything else in motion.

–responses from Hecate during meditation