I eye the package I ordered, and then Momma’s hand-me-down prom dress, slinky satin, size two. Three decades she kept it pressed and pristine for me, never mind I haven’t fit a size two since I was ten years old.
Dissolved in water, the powder goes down easy. I lose fifteen pounds in as many days. Momma nearly weeps with joy.
When my gut gurgles during the slow dance, I rush to the restroom. My stomach seizes, cramping. The dress slips off my newly stick-skinny frame, revealing the bloody hole by my navel and the tapeworm eating its way out.
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alt="Phantom by Liam Dragan"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Neuroluxe Implant no 3Z82M99B64 by Bryanna Botham"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Blindly Following Orders by Chris Tattersall"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Donor by Collette Night"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
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>