Cocoon

Kira told me this over dinner, between the rice and the tea, — like it was nothing.

— I’ve decided.

— Decided what?

— Rewrite. The full one, with the body.

I put down my spoon and looked at her. Green eyes, red hair, antenna-hands, that half-smile at the corner of her mouth. Kira. A person who feels the world through her skin. A person next to whom I stop being a closed circuit and become something there’s no word for, only a sensation.

— When? — I asked.

— Tomorrow.