What I’m reading: Fear and What Follows, Tim Parrish

“I pulled my legs in, slammed the door and told Dyer to take me to the house. My drama had made me seem even more ridiculous than the chain had. They tried to talk to me again, but I told them to shut up. When they pulled away from my house, I slung the chain into the corner of the garage and went to the refuge of my backyard. The terrified kid came to me again, as if carved onto my eyeballs. I imaged the sound of flesh giving, the dullness of bone cracking. I covered my face. What I’d done was despicable. Who was I? What was I? I rubbed my face harder and harder until I felt it chafing. Then I cried, heaving, until I wondered if I’d ever be able to pull my mind back in.”


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