“Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly…
ran through her head as she stood in the doorway watching his eyes run over her body
The truth was she was more moth than fly. Drawn to the light, desperate and wild, to be as close to it, to him, as possible but unlike the moth she knew that it would burn; that he had every intention of hurting her, marking her tender flesh with his brutal touch and delighting in her cries of, pain and pleasure.
Maybe she was the fly after all, here to be consumed.
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