“I was wearing white lipstick when I pressed a kiss onto the dirty window in the back corner of his mother’s garage, pasting spider silk and bone-colored dust to the glass. I left that mark to be discovered at an unspecified moment. In the future. I left that mark, a ghostmark, for him to see. Him, or his brother. It’s hard to say which is Him, which is His Brother. I knew them both. Knew them, with a child’s charming lack of moral intelligence…”
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