She Is Me, Too

by T.M. Shivener

I wake up in the back seat of a taxicab. I don’t remember

getting in a taxi, but here I am, in the back of one. My head is foggy,

Autistic Spectrum Disorder,

Pleasant Bottoms.”

Trista and I met online. In a chat room for serial killer groupies. We connected over our infatuation with Ted Bundy. Now we host a podcast about serial killers out of my basement. Tall, Dark & Deadly.

I haven’t been out in months. Less and less since her mother passed.

It’s been a few months since Winnifred let me out.