Blood, Glass and Sugar
an excerpt

She saw large uncut pomegranates, clusters of bright cherries that gleamed like garnets, and small red berries that seemed to melt together like a pool of arterial blood. Evie’s stomach turned a little at the thought, but her mouth was dry as bone and she felt like lifting the basket and tipping the entire contents into her throat.

She reached towards it, but the woman placed a round, intense red apple into her palm. It seemed to pulse against her skin like a freshly torn out heart. Evie curled her fingers round it gently, feeling that it was plump and ripe. It she squeezed she wondered if blood would leak from it, warm and thick with life. She wanted to laugh at that.

She looked back at the woman, and heard her voice speak as if from far away. “How much?”

The woman leaned forward and pressed Evie’s fingers tighter around the apple. “It is only one apple. Take it for free.” The woman’s hand was icy cold.

Evie pulled back, smiling faintly. Her mouth was too dry to speak any more words. She backed away from the stall and moved back into the shifting crowd, taking a single irresistible bite from the apple as she did.

A sea of juice flooded her mouth. For a moment she thought the apple was rotten inside. Her teeth sunk into it as though it was soft raw meat. She expected to retch before the taste of it seized her. She let it wash though her mouth, it was sweet and bitter and alive, roaring down her throat when she swallowed it, burning cruelly and then cooling with a merciful bliss. She remembered tasting something similar once upon a time, but this left her unsatisfied. She took another greedy bite, and as she chewed it she felt as though the world around her was changing. Like it was shedding its skin and revealing something larger and more threatening.

She devoured the entire apple, crunching the core, not caring as it slid uneven and sharp down her pipes. When it was finished she regarded the new and brilliant world around her. Her mind was back in focus, a thousand times more sharp and observant. She felt like she was a small sun of potential, burning dangerously in a small space. She needed to get out.

A small dark spot of fear remained inside the sun, and she wanted to reach inside herself and grasp it. Then she might be Evie again. She stood still in the crowd and stared at the people bustling around her, or bustling into her.

Then the blonde haired boy she’d seen just earlier was pressed up against her, looking down into her disorientated eyes. He was full of life, pulsing like the apple had against her palm. He smelled of hot spices and sharp sweet cinnamon. Her legs turned to water beneath her, and he reached out and grabbed her before she could swoon to the floor.

“Did that taste good?” He asked, and there was mocking laughter in his dark grey eyes.