Tommy and Billy crawl underneath the heavy folds of the tent. Tommy finds his way through before Billy, and
lifts the material to find himself facing the back of a woman at a table upon
which is propped a large mirror. Tommy
can see her see him in the reflection.
“Oh shit!” Tommy says, then realizes that Billy is gone. Billy always knows the exact moment to run
away, Tommy knows.
The girl turns around in her chair.
Parts of her face appear to be sewn together with scraps of leather and
burlap. The part of her face that is
exposed is crimson, sinewed and raw meat as though her skin had been pulled
from her skull.
Her one eye, electric, blue, holds Tommy in its gaze. He has no words for it now, but years later
he will describe it as being like a bolt
of lightning that lit up the night during an indigo thunderstorm.
The Patchwork Girl holds a finger to her lips, instructing Tommy not to
shout, not to make a sound.
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