Nov 15, 2005 15:01
For a long while he sat there, gazing down, meeting the half-hooded eyes in silence. And presently, with the effortless detachment of one who moves in a dream, he bent down to meet her lifting arms. The sand was cool and sweet, and her mouth tasted faintly of blood.
-- C.L. Moore, "Scarlet Dream"
weird tales,
c.l. moore