It isn’t like peeling an orange. It isn’t like popping a walnut. Skulls are harder than I’d imagined. How long do I have, now? I’m still here, here enough to know this is wrong, but I love my wife and I love my kids and I want to hold onto those memories and for that I need a brain. Someone is coming closer, hesitating, slack-jawed. I scream at him, meaning to send him words like, “Back off! This is mine! […]

Categories: Story Club South Side, Will Hindmarch