Outspoken
By Catherine Roberts
I was washing my hair when I felt it – a tiny, hard square at the nape of my neck. I could smell the botanical lather of shampoo on my hands, feel the warm slapping of water on my skin. I wasn’t asleep.
The next day there were three more teeth, all in a line. By the end of the week, I had a full set on the back of my neck. Then came the tongue.
I wore my hair down most days to muffle the swearing. But one sticky day, I clipped it in a chignon. I was at the checkout paying for a zucchini.
‘Would it kill you to fucking smile?’ the mouth said to the cashier.
I pinched my lips, as if I had said it.
The cashier thought I did, and a security guard led us out. No zucchini.
I put an actual sock in it once. But it spat it out and called me a bitch. Said no one could ever love someone like me. But someone did, in spite of the rotten mouth.
Then, one morning I woke to yelling, turned over to find it had bitten his face. Chomped right through his lower jaw. He stood beside the bed, bloody tongue dangling from his neck like a ruby cravat, eyes huge, teeth falling to the floor like pomegranate pips.
Since then, I speak for both of us.
THE END
Author BIo: Catherine Roberts is a new mom powered by black coffee and illuminated by a laptop at night when she finds the time to write. Catherine holds a first-class BA Honors degree in Creative Writing from the University of Portsmouth. She has had several articles published by hyper-local news website www.starandcrescent.org.uk. She can be found on Twitter under the handle: @CRobertsWriter