Noa and Mother folded into each other and wept like charcoal silhouettes against a bleak world, before Noa left for the place where the sea meets the sky.
Maruja saw a few slack-jawed and told them they should close their mouths before they catch flies. The onlookers grew more irritated as the gang of artists defied the bourgeoisie’s rules.
Coldfire was the name they gave her when they gave her armor and a sword, when they knew she could use the dark to kill. It was better than her name and larger than life, and it made her a myth. It made her a hero.
She pummels ground with heel and wall with head and breathes tilting mouth pants and, forehead on floor, slobs saliva down cheeks and coughs wet hurt noises.