I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

arms folded over the stone ledge.
“I don’t know,” I say, overwhelmed by her scent, how sweet it is, her
skin, how it’s only a succulent’s distance from my own. “Do you?”
Her lips twitch, wonder aplenty.
“I believe in artists.”
“Artists?”
“Some paint the sky and the sea. Others sculpt mountains. The
delicate sow flowers and stitch the bark along trees. The last sketch
people and the lives they live.” Her eyes meet mine. “Your artist isn’t
done yet,” she whispers with a smile. Crooked smile. “He’s
indecisive.”
“You sound angry at him.”
“How dare he not give you arms?”
“Do you believe in heaven?” I ask.
“I don’t think so. Heaven is a perfect place. Perfection isn’t real. A
perfect place in death sounds a lot like something to bait you into
behaving. Or into dying. Behaving and dying are poor endings for
thieves.”
“Neo’s dad says that he wants his son to go to heaven,” I say. “He
says that’s why he does what he does and says what he says.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I think Neo believes him.”
“Is that why he doesn’t take his medicine?” Hikari asks. “Is that why
he doesn’t eat?”