Her

by Tobias S. Buckell

“It’s fascinating,” Jo said, now that she had what she wanted out of me, “that the inhabitants here are the only race we know of that has their mythology dead on.”

“Huh?” I looked down at the table. I needed more beer.

“They believe they live on the corpse of a giant.”

“Maybe it’s because they do,” I said, sneaking another look back down the inner thigh that dominated the western hemisphere.