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  “She didn’t want to live without Mom,” I say.

  “What about us?” yells my brother. “Didn’t she think we had fucking feelings? Didn’t she think we’d want her to be alive?”

  “Well, yeah,” I say, “but living without Mom, it would have been—”

  I pause. Then I start crying. He’s asking everything I want to ask. That’s why it hits me then, this overwhelming loneliness, the kind you feel when you’re in a crowd of strangers getting shoved back and forth, surrounded by people, and totally isolated. Somehow being alone in a crowd is a million times worse than being alone by yourself. It makes the knowledge of your isolation worse.

  That’s what my aunt would have had to deal with every day.

  “Fuck,” says my brother. “I’m sorry.”

  “They’re dead,” I say. “We’re supposed to fucking cry. That’s what you do after someone passes away. It’s fucking normal.”

  I’ve never seen my brother cry. Even now I don’t know if that’s what he’s doing, but he wipes his eyes with his sleeve and pulls me close in a hug and I let my body shake against his. The house dissolves, and the only thing I feel is my heart beating in my fingertips and my brother’s heart beating against my shoulder, the rhythms regular and strong and almost in sync.

  Copyrights

  “Bianca’s Body” first appeared in Hayden’s Ferry Review, 38 (2006)

  “The Shell” first appeared in Nimrod, 52.1 (2008)

  “Mr. Chicken” first appeared in the online edition of PANK, 5.06 (2010)

  “Cyclops” first appeared in Indiana Review, 31.1 (2009)

  “Seventeen Episodes in the Life of a Giant” first appeared in CutBank, 69 (2008)

  “Snakes” is original to this collection

  “Ears” first appeared in Guernica, 15 July 2010

  “Combust” first appeared in North American Review, 295.2 (2010)

  “Three” is original to this collection

  “Butterfly Women” first appeared in Oyez Review, 38 (2011)

  “Markings” first appeared in Clackamas Literary Review, Fall 2011

  “To Fill” first appeared in North American Review, 292 (2007)

  “Skin” first appeared in Cream City Review, 31.2 (2007)

  “Holes” first appeared in Nimrod, 53.2 (2010)

  “Things I’ve Been Meaning to Tell You” first appeared in So to Speak, Spring 2011

  “Mothers” first appeared in Gulf Coast, Fall 2011

  Acknowledgements and Gifts

  A large trophy and several gold stars go to my parents, who have been my writing cheerleaders since I was six years old and started dictating stories to my dad. A lifetime supply of pens, coffee, and diet Dr. Pepper go out to Lawrence Coates and Wendell Mayo, my creative writing professors at Bowling Green State University. They read early versions of many of these stories, and their comments were instrumental in the revision process. Several gallons of mint chip ice cream go to my husband, Tristan, who was my editor even before we were dating, and who still suffers through the first drafts of everything I write. An attractive Chinese paper lantern goes to my Women’s Studies professor, Jeannie Ludlow, whose course “Theories of Othered Bodies” launched me into doing much of the research I performed while writing these stories. Many hugs and ten pounds of Gummi worms go to my sister Kat, who shares my sense of humour and is the only woman I know to have knit herself a beard. Finally, a silver shower of gratitude goes to the literary magazine editors who first published several of the stories in this collection.

  About the Author

  Teresa Milbrodt received her MFA in Creative Writing from Bowling Green State University, and her MA in American Culture Studies from the same institution. Her stories have appeared in numerous literary journals, and several have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. She is an Assistant Professor of Creative Writing at Western State College in Gunnison, Colorado, where she lives with her husband, Tristan, and her cat, Aspen. When she’s not conjuring gorgons and cyclopses at her laptop, she enjoys cooking, sewing, and questing for the perfect cup of coffee.