Lion Head Mesa twenty-first

remember madness? she remembered it. how it had sunken her father and rattled him. how he had surely imbedded it in every godforsaken thing he had touched in his last days.

it slithered ugly in her gut now.

how she would raise the dead just to strike him once more for these things, if she could. this time without mercy or kindness.

explain. she seethed in an ugly tone, unbecoming of the close nights they shared commonly now. how? she is not even — her teeth clicked shut, pinched the end of her tongue between front ones.