by Janessa Keeling

Rosa saw movement.

A brown recluse scurried toward her. Snapping her novel closed, she brought it down. The curled husk stuck to the spine. Venomous spiders were as prominent as the roaming cannibal packs that liked to bury people alive for roasting in ground ovens.

Flicking the corpse, Rosa continued reading—

Was it a car or a cat I saw?

A visceral response overtook her. Freezing her. She wanted to throw the book, but couldn’t. This phobia was ridiculous, but she was incapable of breaking free.

Aibohphobia.

The book tumbled from her hands, and she curled up to hug herself.

Janessa Keeling