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"Like an Eggshell"By Christine StoddardThe refrigerator hummed its mundane kitchenappliance song. Nestled inside its bright white suit ofarmor lied stacks of pita, American cheese, tortillas,honey-cured ham, baguettes, salami, and variousother breads, cheeses, and deli meats. Every item inthe 'fridge brandished fuzzy, blue-gray splotches. Thepresence of mold within the big box gave thecollection of comestibles the look of decaying organs.The knight, stinking of death, lied limp on thebattlefield.Suddenly someone dove milky fists into his body.Her name was Lanetta. From ashy lashes to dustyeyes to colorless skin, she stood as translucently as aghost. Lips shaped like a tombstone and fingersknotted into brambles, every bit of her whisperedsolemnity.Lanetta surveyed the contents of the 'fridge, fromsliced turkey to chunky cornbread, and sighed."Spoiled again."She seized a hunk of bread and tossed it into the
 
garbage bag that sat at her feet. Then she threwaway a package of roast beef, a stick of pepperoni,and a bunch of aimless rolls."Ugh. So disgusting." A bag of mini-pitas plopped ontothe growing pile of discarded food. The pitas thenissued a nebulous cloud. The cloud resembledthousands of mushroom spores exploding into the airafter a chickadee tapped their mother's cap with itshungry beak. Lanetta coughed.The noises of the woman's rummaging echoedthroughout the kitchen. She touched a piece of foiland it crunched. Upon grabbing a paper bag, it foldedinto a yielding crumpling sound.As Lanetta scraped through the refrigerator, browngunk seeped into the tiny crevices beneath herfingernails. It stung, as if full of legions and legions ofice crystals. Glossy photographs of shining, newrefrigerators hovered in Lanetta's mind. Commercialsdrummed in her head. Instantly, Lanetta's soiled handslid into her pocket, where a Sear's coupon slept,waiting for its owner to awaken her at the cashregister.Soon Lanetta began dumping everything in sight outof the 'fridge until it was completely empty. She threwher whole body into the act, thrusting her arms
 
forward and her hips back as she dug deeper anddeeper. She raked everything to the front of the 'fridgeuntil boxes, cans, bottles, and packets alikeplummeted from the cracked shelves. The foodcrashed to the floor, with about 2/3 of it actuallylanding in the garbage bag. The rest found its nicheon the amber tiles."God," Lanetta groaned, "Always the same mess."Her chin dropped down on her bony chest. She staredgloomily at the mountain of rotten food and thenmoved her gaze toward the ceiling. Everything fromsteam engines to palm trees to grizzly bears seemedto emerge from the cracks and flakes of peeling paint.Then the steam engine sped away, the grizzlycharged toward a tumbling woodchuck, and the palmtree dropped its coconuts until it wilted completely intodust. Lanetta half-smiled and shuffled toward thekitchen sink. She turned on the faucet and watchedthe spurts of water hit the dirty dishes. When thewater started to come out harder, she shoved herhands beneath the stream, and scrubbed vigorously.Her skin began to chaff into burning bits.A window as wide as Lanetta was tall presided overthe sink and part of the kitchen counter. Thick, ivorycurtains blocked much of its glimpse to the outsideworld, however. Only a gap about five or six inches
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