You nodded towards the cup. "Want more?" I shook my head. "What about the car?" "Didn't find it. You were heading back towards me when I found you." "Towards . . . ?" You nodded. "So I reckoned the car had probably got stuck or died somehow, and you were just coming home." "Home?" "Yeah." Your mouth twitched. "Back to me.

Where are you going?" I asked. "The middle of nowhere." "I thought this was it." "Nah." You shook your head. "This is just the edge.

I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.

I stayed there, curled up into the warmth of your body, under the blankets, like something soft in a shell. Your arms were firm as rock around me.

It was like I existed in a kind of parallel universe, thinking thoughts and feelings that no one else understood.

The land wants you here. I want you here," you called. "Don't you care about that at all?

I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.