I mean it’s one thing to mistakenly take it from one man’s claim, it is a far different thing from a god’s. Really, a god? You’d have thought that they would leave a warning or something.First off, I am Ryan Clint, gold prospector. Well, pretty much. I was trying a new find I had developed with satellite imaging in India.I had seen what looked like a chamber but dismissed it as a ghost image. Now? I wished I had paid more attention. After breaking into said chamber, I was shocked at the glowing gold lying around everywhere.As I said, I should have known better. It was a good twenty-five feet to the bottom of the chamber. Ignoring everything, I went down, not once looking around, not feeling the eyes that were following my every move.My god, I thought, what a find! Had I left it at that, I might have been fine, but the green monster raised its head, and before I knew it, I was stuffing my pockets with any gold small enough to fit.Another problem, I didn’t stop when I felt the powerful. I knew nothing about Anna. And nothing about me. Anna was still sleeping, crowded into me on her back. I hunched up on my elbow and peeled back a corner of the sleeping bag. Her body was so white I had the same trepidation about it that I feel before walking on fresh snow. Don’t spoil it for others.I rested my head in the bowl of her tummy. Between her legs a tuft of pubes rose as though tugged, gold around the edges; towards the centre an oxidised red.My head edged towards it. She smelled faintly sour; a spice you wanted to recall the name of.I moved down, on hands and knees, over her vulva. She was alive with intricacy. A thousand hairs, spinning off in all directions, surrounded a sharp, dark valley. I put my nose to it, and ran the tip of my tongue down from the top of the cleft. It wasn’t distasteful. A complicated fold flowered into existence. I licked back up, strongly.Anna stirred.‘I remembered my favourite colour,’ I said, my voice croaky and unfamiliar. ‘It’s red.’Anna drew.
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