The smoke detector beeps every five minutes.
You had been hoping for a word. When it came, it was “You.” She's reworking your nose, the neat slip of your fingers, making your image less defined but more arresting. The surprise of sunburn after haze.
In the other room, the dogs are in heat. The neutered male whines, carrying a toy duck in his mouth. The girl dogs nip at his feet.
Migraines are electrical storms in the brain. They are something like seizures, but brought on by manic lethargy. Whole years slip into blind spots. Faces lose eyes and mouths. Let her fake sight, let her approximate lips.
The mail comes.
