9.
At age fourteen, Desirée discovered the edge of the world. It lay not in the graves or the expectation of nothing, or the
fat moon in a black dog sky.
It lay with him.
He bent over her, whispering. The whispers didn’t matter. What did was that they came from him and were directed at her: secret
messages just for her. Love messages. He stroked her, through her dress, until she squirmed and felt a release, and all of
love expanded into a pulsating aura. It was almost painful.
“Desire,” he said, as if that were her name.
“I told you, I can’t.”
They had been playing this game, if that was what it was, since that day in the woods. Bit by bit, glance by moment, week
by week, he had gained her trust. He had excited her, until now she was full grown, or so he said, and was sneaking out in
the middle of the night to do this with him, in the shadows of the woods not far from where her mother lay buried.
He had his own room in the poorhouse. But he knew better than to invite her there—and she would have refused to go, anyway.
A room was a house, and a house was a promise: It said, This bed is designed for you. No, she was a poor girl, and poor girls rut in the dark. They are destined to lie on cool grasses and look at the moon, shadowed
by mountains too large to consider. She liked it out here. She wanted to be part of the world, not trapped forever in kitchens.
He gave a low, throaty laugh, like he was a wild animal and she was his willing prey. His kisses tasted oddly metallic, like
he was promising her this would feel good in the moment but would later be regretted.
“Desire,” he said again, and pressed his pubis against her, so she almost exploded with delight. She felt the damp earth,
the torn grass, at her back, and thought, He could tear me like this grass; he can move me like this earth. Spinning round
and round.
Without words, he pulled aside the fabric of her dress, pulled aside her underwear, and entered her. She was surprised at
the pain, how it brought tears to her eyes. She was shocked at how big he felt inside her, and how wrong it felt.