Fantasy in Ink (#5 Fantasy)
Fantasy in Ink
There’s fantasy and reality.
The reality was on David’s skin, under three layers of shirts, ink that spelled out equations of the cosmos, of prime numbers, perfect spheres. Equations that might as well be Greek or magic spells for all he knew of them. Equations that he had lay still for, letting Charlie doodle across his skin.
That was reality. The fantasy was that he could take off the shirts, roll up his sleeves, make no attempt to deny the undeniable, the evidence on his skin.
That was his fantasy. Don, Colby, the FBI, that was the harsh, unforgiving reality.
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