Американские боги

           Thehawktooktotheair,anditswungupward,circlingandascendinginarisinggyre,circlingtheplaceinthegraycloudswherethesunmightconceivablybe,andasthehawkroseitbecamefirstadotandthenaspeck,andthen,tothenakedeye,nothingatall,somethingthatcouldonlybeimagined.Thecloudsbegantothinandtoevaporate,creatingapatchofblueskythroughwhichthesunglared.Thesinglebrightsunbeampenetratingthecloudsandbathingthemeadowwasbeautiful,buttheimagefadedasmorecloudsvanished.Soonthemorningsunwasblazingdownonthatmeadowlikeasummersunatnoon,burningthewatervaporfromthemorning’srainintomistsandburningthemistoffintonothingatall.

           Thegoldensunbathedthebodyonthefloorofthemeadowwithitsradianceanditsheat.Shadesofpinkandofwarmbrowntouchedthedeadthing.

           Thewomandraggedthefingersofherrighthandlightlyacrossthebody’schest.Sheimaginedshecouldfeelashiverinhisbreast—somethingthatwasnotaheartbeat,butstill…Sheletherhandremainthere,onhischest,justabovehisheart.

           SheloweredherlipstoShadow’slips,andshebreathedintohislungs,agentleinandout,andthenthebreathbecameakiss.Herkisswasgentle,andittastedofspringrainsandmeadowflowers.

           Thewoundinhissidebegantoflowwithliquidbloodoncemore—ascarletblood,whichoozedlikeliquidrubiesinthesunlight,andthenthebleedingstopped.