Pop Pop Pop

She had delivered their baby boy, Gabriel, at Metropolitan Nashville General Hospital. Four hours later she had died of internal bleeding, and all within seconds John had found himself frozen and thawed to a sour-smelling lump of cells; and there had been a lament ventriloquized by someone or something let loose, forcing John’s tongue to trill and his teeth to grind: cannibalistic trimester! […] [FICTION at BITTERZOET MAGAZINE]