Andy hasn’t eaten. Never a good idea. Empty belly means “hanger” consumes the best of him.
In the company parking garage, Andy finds a freshly installed vending machine. He inserts a few coins. Pushes buttons.
The machine whirs. Doesn’t drop the desired pastry.
Cursing, Andy kicks, dents the machine. Shoulder-checks the contraption. Wallops its glass front, spiderwebbing cracks.
Something growls.
Not Andy’s stomach. The machine.
Its delivery slot opens. A tongue snakes through, gripping Andy’s ankles, pulling him in—folding him, crunching him. Every last bite.
Soon, the machine offers a new treat.
A scarlet confection, simply labelled, “Sour Candy.”
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alt="To Cleave the Crone by E.M. McCormack"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="They Only See Me When I Cry by Alara Rogers"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Last Leprechaun by Dakria"
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alt="Sitting on Aine's Cursed Stone by Crystal N. Ramos"
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