My mom is a skeleton. A total skeleton. Okay, not total. Her head is normal. In fact, you might even say she’s pretty. Take her hair, her long brown hair. It’s shiny and thick, really really thick. We’re talking L’Oreal-TV-commercial hair. Not that it makes up for being a skeleton. But it is nice hair.
So her head is normal, but weird, too. The flesh comes to a nice, neat end around the center of her neck vertebrae. Just sort of gathers there. And, believe me, I thank God for that. Big time. I can only imagine if it was all raggedy, with tubes and gristle hanging out, and the skin just ending, like a loose upside-down sock.
Now that would be completely gross.
That's an excerpt from my short story "Skeleton Mom," which is in the new anthology Air in the Paragraph Line, Issue 12, now available on Amazon. Here's the trailer for the book: