Fundamentally burned were the once flaming hearts, for passion became an excuse rather than pure fuel.
Utah was last. All the other cities were vivian black in soul, experiential dust and ashes in practice. But Utah, it resisted. And when Elise and I arrived at the nameless fast-food shop and saw the impossible couple in a whimsically hazy ritual, it seemed that love would be the ultimate healer. Eventually we realized, not after a few seconds of awe, how stupid of an idea that was. I took my unweeping knife, made fully of neurons and reason, and killed them both.
Just kidding. We kept the sister, Tessa, as a hostage. Left my body to fuse with Utah’s fate. Mine is a monopoly, I said, and monopoly is one.
“Whatever you think this is, that’s a lie”, Tessa protested in teenage fashion. The feeling was not mutual, but the idea was. Anyways, we put her on sedatives. And for the record, I didn’t kill Tessa only because Elise opposed. I was curious on why, but so lost in Utah’s figure. The fiction balsamo, the vibe’s coercion, the souls unbreakable. Latter was us.
