Mother

A ewe awakens from her sleep to the sound of terrified bleats in the distance. The mother's ears perk up, her eyes widen, and her stomach churns with bile as she recognizes the cries of her son.

She trudges through cold mud, sharp rocks, and pointy thorns, each step bringing her closer to the screams. The yells grow louder, and the scent of iron from blood grows more pungent.

A hundred feet ahead, she sees a wolf. Around it are the carcasses of its old prey. Vultures are eating the remains of his meal from two days ago.

She walks up and pleads with the wolf, whose jaws clench the screaming lamb. "Please, release my son, for all that is good. I am old, and he is the only child I was able to bear. He is kind and good. In fact, he admires wolves for their strength and assertiveness. I beg you," she says, falling to her knees.

"This is the law of nature," the wolf replies. "It's either him or me, the weak or the strong. Leave me be. Your soft wool and flat teeth were made to be prey."

"Then take me and leave him," she pleads.

"I want fresh meat, meat that screams, not one that wishes to die. It will ruin the flavor."

"Please, I'll be your slave. I'll do whatever you need from me."

She begs and pleads for hours, cooking for the wolf, praying for the wolf, tending to the wolf's every need and happiness.

He looks on and sniffs his prey occasionally. "Eat these rocks." He says and throws stones at her , "to keep your belly full. Don't want you to grow hungry and desperate."

Each day in secret, she sharpens her teeth with the jagged stones. The pain of every cracked tooth fills her rage. The rage gives her hope.

That evening, after finishing her meal of granite, she looks at him and smiles.

"I understand now," she says.

She lashes at him with her broken teeth and rips his throat.

Silent Slice

Reyna takes a deep whiff of the portabella spinach deep-dish pizza in front of her as Italian folk music plays in the background. She's expecting her brain to explode with delight, but it stays silent. Reyna tilts her head, perplexed, drinks a cold sip of water with ice, and tries again, this time a little closer. She can see the crispy bread and browned cheese glisten.

SNNNNIFFF.

Nothing happens.

She looks up at the elevated subway train passing and shaking her windows. “Hmm... It’s emptier than usual,” she thinks.

Reyna looks down at her pizza again and twists her mouth in confusion over the olfactory anomaly. Her nostrils are clear as a whistle, yet nothing happens. She’s waited patiently in her cozy Brooklyn studio apartment for this moment all week. She avoids desserts, doesn’t drink, doesn’t have friends, and doesn’t even watch TV—all to focus on the biggest test of her life in six months, the ABMM. Pizza from Javier's Pizzeria is the only joy she finds in life nowadays. According to her brother and best friend, who she misses and hasn't seen in months due to him working abroad in Japan, “Pizza from Javier’s is the healthiest junk food on the planet.” And it's eluding her now.

Reyna paces barefoot for a moment over her oriental wool rug. She returns to the table, licks her lips, and comes so close to the pie this time that a dab of warm sauce touches the tip of her nose. The siren of an ambulance interrupts her. “Lots of sirens lately,” she thinks, and regains her composure.

She takes a careful, concentrated sniff with her eyes closed this time.

SNNNNIFFF.

Nothing happens.

Her heart thumps as she begins to panic. Did I have a brain aneurysm last night? Do I have a brain tumor? She looks around at her messy, dusty room and the lush trees outside her window. Wait... maybe it’s just allergies.

BRRRRRŔRRRRBRRRRRRŔRRR. She picks up her phone from a glass coffee table. Next to it is a photo of her and her brother laughing and stuffing pizza into each other’s faces. She looks away because it reminds her that she’s felt lonely ever since he left.

It’s a text from her mom.

“Did you hear about that new virus coming out? COVID-19?”

Reyna texts back, “No, but it’s not going to be a big deal for sure. See you tonight for dinner at 6 sharp. LUV YA.”

“FYI not supposed to say anything but you may have a surprise guest :)”