I slipped on the suit. The sleeves and pants still felt damp. Next time I’ll have to let it dry for another hour, at least.
I walked into the bathroom to check on Jim. He still lay in the bathtub moaning, with his skin removed and muscles glimmering in the flickering light. He slapped the side of the tub, leaving a bloody hand print.
“Stop your complaining. Looks better on me than it did on you.” I looked in the mirror and adjusted my new suit.
I was never comfortable in my own skin, that’s why I wore other people’s.
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alt="Stone Jaws by Evan Baughfman"
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alt="The Mannequin People by Michael J. Stiehl"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Gator by Randall Andrews"
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alt="Rude Awakening by Richard Lau"
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