All you think about is eating brains. For 202 days your bloodshot eyes followed my scalp. You, growling “braaaains!”
Disease gave the kiss of death and resuscitated you. We were fizzing with love when the world was overcome, our relationship as fresh and exciting as a present only partway unwrapped.
A fleck of spittle landed on your grazed hand as you defended us. In the conservatory, I secured you while you mutated.
I became accustomed to your rotten new look, not the loneliness of watching you pace out of reach, imprisoned in glass.
On day 203, I open the door.
You cock your head, confused.
“Eat my heart first.”
I weep as your teeth scrape my chest –
You heard me.
Alice Lawson lives in London with her husband, daughter and 100s of inherited houseplants. Outside of her 9-5, most spare time is spent writing.
Enter our flash fiction competition here, to win cash prizes and publication.
Submit to our Fiction123 here.
Discover more from Cranked Anvil
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Cranked Anvil 