Leaving Leo alone, with his brother’s head. Leo stepped closer to the jar. Cary’s white-blond hair floated up from his skull, the tips waving slightly. It looked like strands of spiderweb, or exposed nerves. “You still telling people things they don’t want to hear?” He tapped on the glass. As if he might rouse it to speech.
Also podcast reading of Black Hearts in PseudoPod.
