“Wait! Doesn’t that hurt your hands? At all?”
She pays her date no mind, however, and continues unscrewing the light bulb from its socket in the lamp hanging over their table. It eventually comes loose, but never loses power; the glow continues as she balances it between her long fingers. “I learned this trick back in college,” is her only explanation. She then taps it against the edge of her plate like a hardboiled egg, forming a loose webwork of cracks along its shell.
A few seconds later, liquid light begins oozing from the bulb’s fractured surface. She drizzles it lightly over her steak tartare, which begins sizzling and steaming furiously. By the time it’s half empty, her once-raw dinner is already well done. The strange ordeal is far from over, however. With her other hand, she holds one of her eyelids open, then pours the remaining light between its lashes. The liquid seems to sink into her pupil and disappear.
“How… how did you do that?” He hasn’t even looked at his plate yet, and isn't quite sure if he's still hungry.
“You missed the trick? I thought for sure you’d catch it. You were watching so carefully.” She winks at him, and for a split-second afterwards, he swears he sees a long tongue emerge and lick the surrounding iris clean. “Maybe I’ll show it to you again later, and you can watch a little more closely.”