This is the opening to a piece of flash fiction which was published through, and performed at, Chicago’s Story Week 2014. It revolves around a peculiar woman named Darcy who has a penchant for snake-skin clothing and may or may not be holding a twenty-year grudge against the members of her step-family.
I call her a home-wrecker because that’s what she is.
Mom made wooden clocks and sold them at craft fairs.
Dad’s a butcher in a grocery store. Darcy wrecks homes. I heard
her cough the first time outside of Mom’s cancer ward. She
gagged like she wasn’t used to clean air and when I stepped
out into the hallway, I thought she was a giant snake. Her legs
were wrapped in shiny green scales, her stomach bloated out of
them like she’d swallowed something whole. Her fingers coiled
around Dad’s arm, claiming him. She smiled as he introduced
her and all I could think was, of all the animals you could dress
like, who chooses a snake?
Read the full story here.