We All Rot Eventually: A Horror Novella

by Mia Ballard

I watch, but I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. Something. Someone. A feeling. It’s the kind of ache that doesn’t settle anywhere, just floats under your skin, making you itch.

I don’t know why he lives here. None of us do. He showed up one day with a duffel bag and a blank stare, and Milo let him stay because, in his words, “Dave has the aura of someone who’s seen a dead body.”

He kisses me then, his mouth tasting like beer and sweat, and I let him. I let him because it’s easier than thinking, easier than admitting that we are not soulmates and he is not my person.