Sunday, February 17, 2008
Harold stared at the jar with the dried-up piece of _something_ inside. “It looks like some sort of fruit,” he said. “A dried peach, perhaps, or an apricot.”
Gillian glowered. “It’s a heart,” she said. “I saved it specially. I meant to give it to you as a Valentine but I forgot. I only remembered now because I found it in the bed.”
Harold grimaced and placed the jar on the table as far as his arm would allow. “You know I don’t eat human flesh,” he said.
She picked it up and pressed it back into his hand, folding his fingers around the jar. “It’s not human,” she said. “It’s demon. Just don’t tell Jasfoup.”
“Oh, dogs!” said Harold. “It’s not his, is it?”