Fiction | Hazlitt

When her father died, her second thought was that now, she could build her stairs.

This is the first time in all eighteen years of her life that Grace has ever snuck out of her mother’s house.

Now that strangers have seen me naked, I can move on to worrying about getting into college or my inevitable death.

Even in the wildest bush, beasts sometimes huddle for warmth.

“It reminded me of a dream I’d had where a shark circled my chest hungrily and I felt relieved.”

“I always felt weird about telling you. Don’t get mad, okay?”

At first Jenny hoped her eyes were playing tricks.

“You already have fucked up my whole life.”

He’s smiling again, hungry.

Notes on a short story.