“Soak the herbs with vinegar. Add dried roses for a pleasant scent.”
She worked on the series of leather masks, the pointed raven
beaks filled to the brim. She looked at her elder sisters, all timeless in
appearance.
“I don’t get it. We’re immortal. Why are we doing this?”
Each of the women looked at each other, sipping from bags of
O positive.
“Since the 14th century, we’ve discovered that
immortality also applies to viruses. We live, it lives in us. Don’t want to
poison the stock.”
“The masks? They’re not N95…”
“You haven’t smelled plague with a vampire’s nose.”
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