The hand first appeared when you returned home to practice the fourth song again, wrapping over your own hand clutching onto the neck of your viola, holding on iron tight until the strings slice through your built-up calluses, until blood coats the strings with your fingerprints.…
Mama tells a different version, when she’s had a cup or two of swamp-rice wine. We’re cursed, all right, she insists, but we’re cursed from the inside out. It was the first Dread Lord that put a hex on his own people, when he figured out he was going to lose.…
“We don’t want you here,” said Ana. A pizza magnet still hung on one of her branches. “It’s not a place for you.”
“We’re the Iron Squad,” said Beto. “You’re made of flesh.”…