All the Murmuring Bones

by A.G. Slatter

‘Stories are history, whether they’re true or not,’

And I dream, that night, about mothers who choose between their children, who decide which one is loved less, and send them into the void.

and there are eyes upon me like mouths licking the flesh from me?

Some folk make a point of not visiting pain on others when it’s been done to them; most people, though, think it’s their due to inflict a little of their own agony.

as long as they’ve got pockets.

secret seldom survives being shared.’

grinning at me from two mouths,

I think of the book of tales that are lies and truth and story all mingled and mangled.