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Bottom Feeders by Emily Page

Pushing open the door, he heard them.

as the flashlight crossed over a fluffy pink rug

the scent of voodoo lilies and salt water

hung like stale cheese in the air vent.

And there

scratching at the plastic rivets in the tub

pecking at the bloated, goose-skin blue body

of a small boy submerged under water

were crabs.

Their eyes

like burnt matches,

and held between their feathery lips

was flesh.

They crawled across the boys skin

that blossomed with ruptured blood vessels,

like thin purple string under a bubbly wax casing.

He backed away from the tub

bumping against a sticky counter

feeling for the light switch.

The room ignited with color

and he saw a counter covered

in rainbow cream and six candles.

The figures of blue moved into the room

pressing him further against the sink

he saw the book of Mormon

nailed above the door

and felt there was no religion

left in the walls.

About the Author

Emily Page is a senior double majoring in English and German with a minor in Digital Technology and Culture, and an Editing and Publishing Certificate. When she is not busy writing a story at 3am, you can find her drinking a Capri Sun or Red Bull as she races to class.