by Ann Neilson

Wonderful read.

The Miskatonic Drinker

I don’t know where they came from. They were just there one day. Small, straight, with tips sharp enough to hurt, but not draw blood.

I don’t know where they came from. But I do know why. They grew out through my skin, harmless to me, grown from hurtful emotions, pain caused and the wish to return it. They grew out of me, the parts of me I couldn’t hide, the part that screamed out for relief, for revenge on the world….or at least 49 percent of it.

They grew out of me as a shield. They grew stronger as the suffering continued. Longer, sharper….

They became spines, flesh cutters, drawing blood and poisoning the heart pumping it along.

Then they curved, the spines growing spines, hooks and barbs to say ‘STAY AWAY’ in bold blacks and reds.

But none of them listened. None of them saw. Even if they…

View original post 245 more words