Blood on Her Tongue

by Johanna van Veen

And then she bit him.

whelp...i have a guess what's afflicted Sarah but yall gotta get cool about some things real quick

I could be a mermaid or sea witch, combing my hair and counting the souls of the drownèd damned, she thought as she looked at her face in the mirror, which was speckled black because the abundance of water that had given the estate its name meant the house was often intolerably damp, and dampness spoiled things, wore them out.

I'm tired of the run-on sentences GET AN EDITOR. BREAK IT UP!! 🗣🗣🗣🗣