Psychopomp Magazine Fall 2015 | Page 12

12 | Psychopomp Magazine

against a wall and smile, the man with the very new, very old body put on a robe and walked to her building, bare feet burning on the summer sidewalk. He strode, unseen, past the doorman and took the elevator up to her floor, drumroll heartbeat almost visible through the dense fibers of his chest. He struggled to suppress his giddy smile. He couldn’t remember which foot was supposed to bear his weight.

It all came together when he knocked on her door. He found himself in the perfect pose, his face at ease, his thighs and neck resting on lazy strength. He could hear the slow crunch of her footsteps across the floor. He couldn’t move, every limb and muscle and hair locked in aesthetic precision.

The woman’s face flashed confusion, shock, panic, excitement, happiness, and fear before the man had a chance to move. She settled on bewilderment and shook her head. With balletic control, the man opened his arms. ♦