by C.D. Augello
In the night he feels her struggling beneath his body, as if trying to escape the prison of his weight. Just a dream, he thinks, but in the morning, stripping the sheets, he sees her shape in silhouette, long legs, the heightened curves of breasts and hips. A woman, unquestionably—but what was she doing inside his new mattress?
Ten minutes on hold with the 800 number before an automated voice warns, Don’t let her out! Too late—he hears the fabric tearing.
A hand, then another, then her face, front teeth bared, her voice hissing a single word: Hungry.
C.D. Augello lives in New Jersey. His work has appeared in over 30 journals, including Brilliant Flash Fiction, One Story, and Smokelong Quarterly. He publishes The Daily Vonnegut, a website exploring the life and art of Kurt Vonnegut.