Nicolina Martin – I Am Eve

Eve’s sculptures capture the cries of agony as the plague ravages mankind. I call her the collector of tears.
I watch her, waiting, biding my time. Alone in her rickety castle she knows nothing of my intentions.

We’re the outcasts, the freaks, the dregs of this broken realm, but we will rise and I will make the strange artist my queen.

Hidden from sight, fiercely protected by her kin, untouched by any man.


I’m the devil to her angel, and together we will save the world.


I Am Eve
I Am Eve
Nicolina Martin

I hold out my hand and hover it closer to where his face should be. “Can I see you?”

“What do you mean?” He takes my hand, but then he just holds it.

“Can I…touch your face? Make an image of you?”

“Do you want to make a statue out of me after? Screaming in agony?”

“Maybe,” I say. “Is there agony in you that wants out?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know half of it.”

“Try me. Can I?” I tense my fingers and spread them, increasingly eager to trace the pattern that are his features, to build a map of Adam. Yes, maybe I’ll make art out of him if I get the chance, but I need to learn him first.

Adam releases my hand and moves. He pulls me up and shuffles around until we sit in front of each other on the bed.

“Go for it. What do you want me to do?”

“Close your eyes unless you want me to poke them.”

“Right,” he says with a scoff. “That’d be the last thing you did.” The words are threatening, but he sounds playful. He’s a man full of surprises.

“Well, then keep them closed. And stay still.” I hold out both my arms and let my hands descend on his head.

I’ve touched people’s faces before. Plenty. But this one is different. Adam has heat radiating off him, a special kind of warmth that makes my skin tingle. His hair is silky where mine is rough. I don’t know why I know it, but he comes off as dark haired. His head is a little rounder than mine, and larger. He has fuller ears.

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