Cassie takes her turn then passes it to Bazza, holding the joint between two fingers. His fingers brush hers as he takes the smoke from her, the intimacy between them solid and friendly.
The moon winks. The trees embrace the steep riverbank. Some of their roots, eroded by the gushing river, stand bare and naked. The roots curl around the dirt. Part of the earth, how they travel in the darkness, spread, drawing life from the mystery of silt and mud. She feels those roots beneath her, rumbling, tickling the rocks beneath her feet. Curious roots. Curious for the taste of her. Curious about the taste of all of them.
Paulo’s fingers stroke her spine. Like spiders. His spider hands curl around the joint. His hungry lips purse on its end.
His lips, his lips touching hers. His tongue, parting h
