Tag Archives: marysue

      I’m sitting on the floor of what I’m beginning to consider my room. It’s a dangerous thought to have because Moon Children don’t own anything. And yet, here I am, hunched over a book and pretending the squiggles are supposed to make sense. The doctor’s clothes hang off my frame loosely; I’m like a scarecrow from that children’s story, wishing for brains.             The scarecrows here live under the city and dine on flesh, but it doesn’t make them any smarter. “Mags?”             Dr. Barrows raps me gently on the head to bring me back from my woolgathering. It’s on the tip of my tongue to mention the scarecrows, but I decide the joke will fall flat. Moon Child humor is not for the faint of heart.             “This is useless. I cannot make sense of scribbles.” I turn the book so it’s upside down, but the words aren’t any… Read more