There was a business card. It read: LILITH MORNINGSTAR – Vice President, Interdimensional Acquisitions.
She was tall. Not supermodel tall— intimidating tall. Hair the color of a raven’s broken dream, cut into a jagged bob. Skin pale as fresh parchment. Lips that looked like they’d been stained with blackberries. And her eyes… they were the exact shade of a shallow, sun-drenched sea—turquoise, warm, and utterly, terrifyingly human. There was a business card
Satan comes over for brunch every Sunday. He brings bagels. He still calls me ‘the imbecile,’ but last Father’s Day, he gave me a card that said, “To my son-in-law. You’re less disappointing than I expected.” I framed it. ’ but last Father’s Day
I created a home in it. Three years later. There was a business card