Three Stories
They lived in terror of living animals. Animal blood and animal flesh alarmed and excited them. It didn’t help to install glass partitions in the rooms or fill empty corners with taxidermied specimens. Silence, stillness, the occasional snow of sawdust from tiny holes in old hide, these were good things, but not enough. Not reliable. More than once, in the black surface of a glass eye, they glimpsed reflected movement, a declining sun or a bending leaf. They dined in silent tension, in an atmosphere of seance, waiting to detect alternations of light and shade among the cutlery.
Three new microfictions by Addison Zeller.