Grin, by Daniel Ritter

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.

Posted on October 28, 2011, in Issue 1: Hundred Word Halloween and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: