Hobart :: Them Bones
“Mom, if I was born a boy,” “Like you were supposed to be,” without a tinge of playfulness as she scanned the bar cart in the living room for her preferred drink. She resembled a mannequin and had even once been on the cover of a Roxy Music album, but her hands had always been veiny, gnarled. Villainous. The skin slithered over them like cellophane. I mostly noticed the vulgarity of her pearly, oval claws as she tapped them on various bottles until she found the winner. “Anyway, Mom...
Source: hobartpulp.com