It used to require much more coercion. Whispered hints and slow seductions. Long, drawn-out bewitchments carefully escalated until the meeting of lips and flesh became an inevitability.
Times change, I suppose, and one must always be willing to adapt.
They beg for them now, lining up to eagerly seal their fates and paying for them, though the prices are quite reasonable.
All it takes is caramel and chocolate, I wish I’d realized that years ago. They never even taste the poison, succumbing to it as though it were simply another nuance of the sugar high. Delirious already from the sweetness.
It’s so easy. It almost takes the fun out of it, really.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.