In a Bathroom on Bunker Hill


Although George had told the other animals to keep their eyes closed, one rat, in particular, couldn’t help but take a peek. He’d been working himself to the bone trying to bring the girl back to life, but the entire time they’d been feeding her their energy, there had been a familiar and distinctive scent tickling the back of his throat. At first, he’d done his best to ignore it, but the longer it went on, the more curious he became. Slowly opening his right eye as he stood on his hind legs bathed in the sunlight that was pouring in through the window, he followed his nose to the deodorant can sitting on the shelf next to the open medicine cabinet. The can was white, and emblazoned upon it was the image of a dove. The scent was extraordinary—one that stirred within him things he was sure his rat brain wasn’t supposed to see. It reminded him of the time he’d snuck into a woman’s apartment and stolen a half-eaten bar of chocolate. When she saw him on the kitchen counter attempting to make off with his sugary find, she’d screamed as if she were being attacked, and although the noise hurt his ears, the scent of her body had been so moreish that he’d chased her around the room wanting to catch a closer whiff. As fate would have it, it seemed that the pretty girl they were rescuing used the same spray. Such a small detail, and yet it was one that lingered while others faded away. For a second he considered that the two women might, in fact, be the same person, yet he quickly nailed the thought on the head as this one was prettier by far. Lowering his eyes with a smile on his face, he shifted his gaze from the can to the animals surrounding him. Unlike him, they still had their eyes firmly shut tight and continued to channel their energy into the body on the floor. George was a sight to behold. He was kneading his paws into the girl’s tummy, and his tongue was sticking out of his mouth leaving a slither of saliva to dangle from his chin. He liked George, and yet such a sight made him giggle. He would’ve giggled some more, yet as his gaze settled on the girl’s face, his tiny body froze. Her eyes were wide open, and in them, he saw something that turned his fur from a dull grey to a shocking white. Before he even had a chance to react, there came the crackle of electricity. It hissed and zipped around the room like a trapped fly, and above the girl’s body, the steam that had been there before had now returned. It floated just inches away, and with it came music as sweet as birdsong.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US

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