I had to keep coughing to keep my mouth clear enough to breathe; my nose too stuffy.
She didn’t seem to struggle as much, show any pain, as she shoved each of my teeth into the holes where hers had been. Her smile was hitchy and catchy, to keep the pegs from falling out, smiling at me with my own teeth shoved into her grin. She fiddled with her former teeth on the table, wet and sticky and shiny maroon.
“Shee me?” sputtering little clots through her lips. “I’m pretty with your shmile in me.”
I passed out in pain.
Advertisement
[...] story, Grin, I had previously published here on my blog. The other two, Three Jack O’Lanterns, and Tug [...]