The last thing I saw before I put the blindfold on were ocean blue tiles with thin edgings of pink. As I pressed the silk mask over my eyes, the tiles momentarily remained swimming like blue-pink tailed fish. I was nude on the floor of my standalone shower stall, waiting for Tad, my feet touching the frosted glass door, my back resting on the chilly tile. Soon, I could hear my own breath.
I had been thinking a lot about the things Tad had said in his sleep the night before. He had seemed so lucid. I had not mentioned it to him, nor had I brought up the things he’d said about Wolfe at the dinner party. But my meeting with Eva and Wolfe had set it all in motion again, and now, under the cool darkness of the eye mask, I could not stop imagining Mexico, and those colorful migrating wings.
It
