...the folly of all flesh

At the main entrance above the floor of the kiva, at the top of the stairs, two figures appeared. One was Alicia, still dressed as she had been in the desert. She was sensationally sexual, reminding Thomas of those paintings of women in the apartment where he had danced with her so many years ago. Her pale skin, contrasted with her raven black hair, turned heads, even those of the Pseudo-Mogollon. Unenthusiastic before, they now appeared to believe that a goddess had entered the kiva.

Thomas assumed that the other figure was Miller. Naked, his form was flawless. He appeared neither young nor old. Muscles rippled in his chest, his thighs, his shoulders, arms. Thomas thought of Adam and Eve, prior to the Fall. Looking at the quietly stunned, subdued reaction of the crowd, he also thought of Christ and Magdalen. He thought of Greek gods, Apollo and Athena, Mars and Aphrodite.

The two idols came down the stairway, hand in hand, and moved through the silent, adoring crowd. As they approached the table they separated and maneuvered around each side of the altar table before joining on the other side and standing just a few feet from Thomas, facing him on the cross.

Once they were close, Thomas was strangely unimpressed with their bodies, perfect though they might have been for runway models or exotic dancers. Now they were just bodies, momentarily arranged differently than that of Dominic but ultimately subject to the same derangement and decomposition.

The mysterious two looked up at him. Miller’s gaze was vacant. In Alicia’s dead eyes was the folly of all flesh.