No one dared comment on the color of her hair. They knew its wet sheen would eventually darken and crust her scalp. They knew the consequences of that inevitability. It was safer to pretend it had always been that deep crimson—and that her complexion had always been so youthful.
Francesco Levato is a poet, professor, and writer of speculative fiction. More about his work can be found at francescolevato.com.