Only a Skeleton by Stephanie Devine
Fish-Eye—As I breastfeed the baby, he catches me in his fish-eye stare. I’m drinking iced coffee, and condensation has gathered on the glass.
Fish-Eye—As I breastfeed the baby, he catches me in his fish-eye stare. I’m drinking iced coffee, and condensation has gathered on the glass.
The doctor told her it wasn’t exoskeleton. “Melanoma can hide in surprising places,” she said.
My neighbor broke the fourth wall. It started innocently enough when we both found ourselves on our verandas watering the plants and she asked about the music we were playing inside.
She was having a glass of wine. The bottle was on the table, almost empty. Despite the smell of alcohol on her breath, she looked cold like a marble statue.
When Cassie finds the blowup doll in the park a second time, she knows it’s a sign.