by Elena Zhang
Yes, enough to follow the boy my age down to the church basement, enough to forget our parents singing to God with their arms up as we go below, enough to ignore the desks stacked against the walls and the picture books of Noah’s ark spilling from the shelves, enough to tremble with excitement when the boy asks to turn off the lights, enough to imagine the spots in my eyes are candles flickering as they embrace me, enough to get on all fours on the cold floor, enough to repeat the boy’s chanting, enough to say I am one with you and believe it, enough to arch my back and raise my hackles, enough to feel the fur sprout along my spine, enough to taste blood on my tongue as my canines descend, enough to snick the boy with my pink glitter claws, enough to know the boy shouldn’t have been alone with me, enough to howl sisters, sisters, come find me, I have a new game to show you, let us pray.
Elena Zhang is a Chinese American writer and mother living in Chicago. Her work can be found in HAD, The Citron Review, and Lost Balloon, among other publications. She is a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee and was selected for Best Microfiction 2024.
Emerge Literary Journal 