He’d wanted her since he first saw her, and now that she was empty, he could crawl inside her; fill the botoxed void between her flesh and her bones. “This one’s a keeper,” squawked Esmeralda, the grey crested parrot, from off in a shadowed corner of the room. But was she? he asked in reply. She did have pretty eyes. “Pretty Eyes, Pretty Eyes, Squawk!” Not fake, like all the bits he’d cut out of her and tossed to the floor. So come meet Ted in Cheryl Anne Gardner’s new horrific flash fiction piece featured now at The Carnage Conservatory. Maybe he can help you with your baggage.
Warning: This story is written with a certain amount of malice that some readers may find objectionable. Reader Discretion Advised.