CHANNILLO

Chapter 29 - The Settled Dust of Lost Love
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   It wasn't as bad as I thought. My hand hovered on the door handle for only a moment before I squared my shoulders and lifted the latch. Inside, the only remnants of my months spent testing the limits of sexual endurance with Andrew were a few hooks and wires we'd used to gain better camera angles to record our escapades.

   I found my phone right where I'd left it beneath the crushed leaves of our make-shift bed. It was, of course, as dead as the beetles lying legs-up beneath the skylight. I plugged it in at the outlet by the door. Seeing the little mirror above it, I decided to manifest fully and take a good look at what my weeks in solitude and a hibernating tree had done to my appearance.

   Beauty isn't a foregone conclusion for dryads....

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