Shark Heart

by Emily Habeck

And then, faster than the insight came to him, it faded, and he was once again a man with an incurable disease who loved his life, his wife.

“I’ll read alone for now,” Lewis replied, knowing the only thing more terrifying than seeing his future through his own eyes would be seeing it through hers.

Actually? Ouch

With electroreception, Lewis hoped to sense her, know her, and love her even thousands of miles away in the ocean. Nothing he read indicated that electroception extended further than a couple yards. But maybe, he thought, maybe if I practiced, I would never really have to say goodbye.

Wren and the Tiny Pregnant Woman shared practical, applied interests like oncoming personal devastation, terrifying sadness, and the experience of free-falling into grief and the unknown.

The main ingredient in transformation was not magic. It was pain.

Angela wasn’t old enough to get a driver’s license, buy cigarettes, or vote, but she was the perfect age to worship the first guy who said she was important.

She knew it was wrong to think this way, but seeing Marcos’s mulberry thumbprint beneath the soft flap of her earlobe the next morning gave Angela the creeping satisfaction that he took the time to touch her.

I AM SO LONELY HERE, Lewis screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. But no one heard him. No one came.