The Mates of Monsters
Sydney Mariecamping with mom storymy mate's father wants meshort story for mothershort story about a mother
I repeat, tasting the word on my tongue.
"We are monsters, aren't we?" Nicodra asks deviously. "Yes, we sleep in beds and bathe in showers, eat with forks and knives—cooked foods—but we're beasts. I had heard that a woman of your pack killed her mate. Bizarre, isn't it?"
"Tragic, I think," I answer. "I can't lie, it's been on my mind. Horrible, terrible thing."
David says, "We're choosing to move on from the incident."
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