fiction I see YOU! And you frighten so till. Frighten at what him telling you, maybe, but more frighten by him face, glorious in the porch light, the intensity in him eyes locked with yours, the feel of him hand holding yours, and you thinking, Oh my God, Max love me and Max is touching me, right here on the porch of him house where he just cooked me dinner, and right in front of Kiva and Neville and Lenworth and my God how to let go him hand before he pull me to him and kiss me? Before me pull him to me and suck out him soul-case? So, you pull away your hand, fast-fast, and run down the steps to your classmates.
__ Excerpted from a novel, Everything Irie.
158 CARIBBEAN INTRANSIT
