THE FABLIAUX
by Stanley Lieber
Violet sky, red on blue, copying and melting. Sparkling. Wax drops on desert floor as the lights fell out, one by one. Impressions in sand.
The pink mountain continued to shrink. She was almost under.
Slake drew his fingers along the cracks in the sidewalk, feeling for debris. Spiraling fossil. A shell. Sidewalk curved, terminating in dune.
He could still see the house, the remaining wall, the painting, although it was no longer there. Sky’s curtain had turned and cycled against cold vision. Illusions drawn.
Cheek scraping softly against rough sand.
Alpha empathized, nuzzling the back of Slake’s head. Then, gripped the neck of his green jacket with silent jaws and drug him away from the ruins. Slake stirred.
“I’m so sorry,” Slake said, and Alpha believed him. For what, he couldn’t know. Sufficient?
Panic receded as Slake transitioned from purple to scarlet. Calibrated to the dying woman.
“Low light,” murmured Alpha.
Blue shift, silence, and then she was gone. Last bright corner having slipped beneath the sand.
Slake tried but he couldn’t remember.
From everything, there was nothing.
