Nothing Good Can Come of This December 3February 4 Marcelle Heathflash fiction, necessary fiction, short story The mare’s breath fills up the stable. Good girl, her mother clucks with her teeth that don’t fit right. The girl is thirteen or fourteen, on some scaffolding outside the gym, dangling her legs through the slats. She’s fooling with her swollen lip, rolling the blood in her mouth.
Marcelle Heath 