The thing sees her back with wide brown eyes. The whites of the eyes are red. There is a froth of saliva on the chin, and the froth is pink because of the blood that seeps from the cut-wide corners of the lips. The thing is a man. The man is on the ground, his arms and legs spread in an X just like the big wooden one. He is trying so hard to scream. Vera points the flashlight at the thing’s middle, instead of at his eyes, so as not to blind him. The light illuminates his face, though. The formerly-white cotton that gags his mouth is stained brown and red and pink. It is jammed deep into his
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