by Jesse Highsmith
Richard’s ears crackled loudly in the bubbling pot. They bobbed and swirled around the heart, fingers, and toes of the man who once shared my bed. I reserved my favourite parts of his for my necklace, though. It swung wildly between my breasts as I poured the steaming concoction over our son’s corpse and yelled the ancient incantation. If anyone could bring the boy back, I felt it would be his father. Before I could finish the ritual, the cops dragged me away. The neighbours will pay for their insolence. They called me a witch, but I’m just a mother.
Jesse Highsmith is an adventurous wordsmith, musician, podcast enthusiast, and internet jokester from Central Florida, US. His specialty is short-form flash fiction written within the confines of a large pesticide truck. However, he is currently writing his first novel, an otherworldly dive into death, acceptance, sacrifice, and redemption. He is also hard at work on his first foray into children’s books with former Infectious Magazine editor Sami Marshall, a project due to be completed very soon. They live in rural countryside with his son Logan, dog Snowy, and a shadow-chasing cat dubbed Sir Liam Frederick, Duke of Cuteness.