Thursday, January 24, 2008

A Thing

by Ari Collins


Her tailored shirts almost conceal the small head on her shoulder and almost muffle its low spitting mutters. She keeps dinner warm when I say work’s keeping me late, and while coming sometimes I’ll yank its stiff hair, watching for the teeth, which snap always (especially at dinner). She says she doesn’t feel a thing.

2 comments:

abbreviatedman said...

This is an example of Magical Realism I just realized. Sorry. I didn't mean to.

Rob said...

This story seems mutated and twisted as the subject material. That's a pretty jarring couple juxtapositions (dinner, mutant-head- thing, sex, and dinner again.)

Unless I'm misunderstanding it. It's a pretty cool device, considering the content of the story.