We Ate the Dark

by Mallory Pearson

Wasn’t that what summer was for? Rotting away on a couch that molds itself to the shape of your body, watching reruns of reality TV until you can feel bits of your mind melting through your ears? He’d get his life together when the leaves fell again.

But I’m not a twin anymore, she thought suddenly, mostly as a method of self-sabotage to break her own heart.

The house was loud as a body, with all the same digestive hums and groans.

Not much had changed over the years—if a girl had functioning lungs and a tendency to look like she wore mood rings, Cass would flirt with her.

The house was a tall, thin man in a neighborhood of homes shaped like luxuriously plump ladies.

For once, she was a good woman’s daughter. She ran like hell.

Cass was not comforted by the fact that he was not actually a demon.

“I wasn’t good enough for her,” Frankie whispered into her palm. “But she wasn’t good enough for me either. What am I supposed to do with that?”

Mab didn’t deserve much credit in the motherly department, despite her title, but some awful part of Finder’s heart awakened at the idea of being claimed.

his voice crawled down the hallway on its hands and knees,

“Gays these days.”

How special it was, to care about another person on purpose.

No one loved like a girl.

She felt she could reach out and grab strands of atmosphere, so she did.

Now she ignited with pain, a scarecrow girl with a straw body, perfect for kindling.