by Jeff Long
He doesn’t need the food, claims not to even want it particularly. It rounds out the hunt though, he says. Luckily for her, he shares. A haunch of meat lies on the illusion of an exquisite Louis XVI parquet table. The table is just a boulder. But Ali prefers the illusion at times like this, especially when it masks the fingers and toes.
She would refuse the meat, would starve herself, gladly. But someone has to watch over the creature. So long as she is here denying him his password, the world is safe. She eats for mankind, then. It goes down easier that way.
As always, he is brimming over with curiosity. He delights in her latest discoveries in his mazelike library. He wants to know how much longer she will take to plumb how much deeper. Sometimes he shares secrets. Today he plays a riddle.
“If light can pierce darkness,” he poses to her, “can darkness pierce light?”
Freedom. He is all about freedom. She searches for some other subtext. Once he asked about a fly, and was really talking about the half-life of empires. This question seems straightforward, however. Will she be the one to set him free? Will he ever see the sun?
Ali doesn’t sugarcoat it. “No.” For as long as he lets her live, she means to keep him locked in this cage with her.
His bare feet slap the stone, back and forth, pacing. She knows he knows about her scheme. And he has shown her his Collection. She has nightmares about the savage things he has done even to his favorites.
She braces for his wrath. At any moment he could tire of her defiance. Every breath is a borrowed one.
He casts a glance at her. He comes closer, takes her chin in his gory hand. Here is where it ends, she thinks.
But he only smiles at her.
