9
Jerome held the kite up for her to see.
Cynthia’s face and torso had been painted across the wing. Instead of a bathing suit top, her image wore the scantiest of clam shells. Instead of the bottoms, she wore a long sinuous tail of shining green scales. But most off all, her long red hair billowed across the kite’s wing.
Looking up from the beautiful image, made with an engineer’s eye, she stepped up to him until they were separated by only the thin paper and balsa of the wing. She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.
