There is a story she and her friends told each other, of someone like her and something like him and love, love enough to break the chains, to not care of the consequences. They would sigh and fall back with a hand pressed to budding breasts, gazing flutter-lashed at ceiling or sky, daydreaming of a great romance so powerful and beautiful that stories would be told and remembered forever and always.

But they were young and knew nothing of monsters.

From “Tooth, Tongue, and Claw,” available in Cry Your Way Home



Art: Flaming JuneSir Frederic Leighton (1830-1896)