Page 25 of Fruitbat

I swallow, holding the chocolaty sponge to his lips.

He shakes his head “no,” but I insist, curling my lip and chomping my teeth, to show him how it’s done.

His tongue reaches out to welcome the cake in, and without breaking our gaze; he bites down.Where has this been all my life?

I take another bite and feed him the last, tossing the plate onto the mattress and wrapping myself around his shoulders. Our crumby lips join together, and I roll back, pulling him on top of my body.

He lays his head on my chest and curls into me.

I wrap my legs around him again and electricity buzzes the air.

The television, in the corner of the room, blips on.

“We must be laying on the remote,” he chuckles, fanning his hand over the blankets, searching for the hidden device.

A newscaster with a pearly white smile drops their facade for a serious matter, and my face appears on the screen. Pale gray skin and sunken smoky eyes, closed in peaceful slumber, the captured image taken from an overhead view.

“Wait,” I bolt upright.

Danny turns to the TV, and then back to me with a gaunt expression.

“Volume?” I flail.

He finds the remote on the nightstand and hurries to appease my request.

“We come to you with sad news this morning,” the statuesque man announces.” A body has been collected from the scene of an accident near Tukey’s Bridge. It appears to have been a hit and run. The victim, John Doe, was pronounceddead on the scene, at arrival. Police are asking anyone who knows this individual to please call…”

Danny touches my knee, igniting a current, and the TV blips off.

“What?” My jaw hangs.

“Si…” The charge from his touch singes my skin.

I can’t find words and I hope he can find them for me.

“You’re okay,” he soothes.

“Danny, what was that?”

“I should have told you.”

“What?” I don’t understand any of this.

“Do you remember the scene at the bridge?”

“The SUV didn’t hit me.”Right?“I rolled out of the way.”

“You did . . . but your body stayed behind.”

“What?”That doesn’t make sense.I look down at my body, in the flesh.

“The soul separates from the body when a traumatic death happens.”

“I’m not dead, I’m sitting right here.” I grab his forearm and static shocks both of us. It’s nearly visible, trailing my skin.

“You’re not in your body anymore.”

“Are you dead too?”

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