Charlie collected teeth from dead children and sucked on them and wore them in his mouth and smiled at parents across the street.
He came into my house and stroked my sister’s teeth. I told him not to. I said, “I’ll shoot you, Charlie.”
Charlie left and, later, did his thing to a dog. Charlie wore fangs for a weekend and haunted the neighbors with his barking and howling.
Then one night when my sister cried and yelled for help, I blew Charlie’s head off with a 12-gauge. Took a dentist to identify Charlie’s body. That, eventually, made me smile.
About the Author
A.M.Crenshaw’s work can be found in the “AGON Literary Magazine” and “Swords into Plowshares” publications.