Goth

“She first caught my eye when I saw her white wrist peeking out from the edge of darkness. It was pale as porcelain…and the mark loomed out from it.”

Before they were friends, he had already noticed her. He wanted her hands – those beautiful, enchanting hands – to himself. And he hoped that the local madman who had been “collecting” the hands of anything that moved – babies, children, men, women, animals – would get them for him… until the day she asked him to teach her how to smile.

By Kendi Oiwa