to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Iskra might’ve predicted her strategy, but the encouragement was all she needed. She smirked, mildly demonic and feral, before disappearing entirely, fading into the backdrop on her intangible, invisible threads, snagging at the vine of grapes. As more children hastened by, she pinpointed movements and motions, sizing up the competition, and then tossing. One immediately got plopped in the head, enough to send a shockwave against the kid’s cheek, screaming out Hey! to no one in particular, looking around to see who might’ve accomplished such a deed.When no one seemed apparent, they ran off, and Melita picked another, skillfully rampaging another set of grapes into the next kid’s shoulders and neck. They hissed, hand going to their newfound bruise, but then there were other things going on – like lantern selection – that made her turn back around.
She fizzled back into reality as Isla was chosen – and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe next year,” she offered to Iskra. “I got twenty,” came with a wink, before eating the rest of the grapes.
to be the sun
MELITA
