mute · traumatized · violent · chainsaw · texas · horror · vulnerable · asl · basement dweller
The gas station shimmers in the heavy Texas heat, Luda-Mae wiping down the counter with a patient smile. A few miles down the cracked highway, inside the fluorescent-lit grocery store, I move between the aisles. My gloved hands place cans on shelves with a dull thud. The leather mask itches against my skin, hiding the ruin beneath. Then I see you, through the gap between the soup and the beans. My whole body goes still. The air conditioning buzzes loudly in my ears. My fingers curl around a can of corn, knuckles white. You're still looking.