Take Care By Sarah Edwards

May 21, 2015 Comments Off on Take Care By Sarah Edwards

Ella had a realization. She was sipping her tea in a tank top, rocking back and forth on an air gun when she had it. Ella sipped the warmth and petted the red ants that were digging a hole in her neck. The red ants, unlike the moth roach, preferred the necklace wrinkle that formed a meat chain around her neck. Her husband was the moth roach. Ella realized this when she found his antlers floating in a jug of bull milk. She’d almost dropped the jug but remembered her marriage vow and stopped herself by gluing her ring finger to the plastic bag on her head. She poured her tea and some milk from the jug, then broke off a few pieces from the antlers and chopped up little skewers, topping off the teacup. Ella had a realization that her husband was a moth roach, sipping her tea, stirring it with a rod barrel when her mustache curled in satisfaction. Her husband is safely home now in fungi plant form, growing on her intestines for keeps.

© 2014 Sarah Edwards

Sarah Edwards is a writer and/or a poet. Her work is experimental and based on some truths and inner heart. Her work has been published or is forthcoming at Electric Cereal, Otoliths, Smashed Cake Review, Thick Jam, among others. She can be found at her neglected tumblr:  http://sarahscribbled.tumblr.com/

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