Mom’s new boyfriend is a liver fluke by Cole Beauchamp

He attached quickly (can I buy you a drink, let’s hook up, sure I’ll meet your kid), slid into our house unnoticed (toothbrush here, pair of socks there) and two months on, here we are, host and Fasiola Herpatica. This flat worm sucks nutrients from our fridge, sprawls on the sofa, pink and leaf-shaped, fattening and excreting eggs while Mom lumps with worry. I say let’s throw him out, there’s two of us, but Mom says he’ll just regenerate unless he detaches completely. Lucinda from next door stops by and his eyes lick her soft flesh. I’m feeling hopeful.

Cole Beauchamp (she/her) is a queer writer based in London. She’s a Best Microfictions nominee, been shortlisted for the Bridport and Bath awards, and placed third in the WestWord Prize for Flash Fiction. Her stories have appeared in The Phare, trampset, Citron Review, Janus Literary, Ellipsis Zine, Free Flash Fiction and others. She lives with her girlfriend, has two children and an exuberant Maltipoo. You can find her on Twitter at @nomad_sw18