A tapeworm’s mouth is like an exploding aril; its head, a hydrant. I washed my hands so often that they chapped and bled. I was eleven, terrified I’d be a host.

I’m forty-three now. I keep a quiet home. I invite no one over and my hands are soft.

Chad Sullivan is a father, husband, and heavy equipment operator who lives and writes in Elburn, Illinois. His work will appear in upcoming Bending Genres, X-R-A-Y, and Maudlin House issues. He exists quietly, running in the woods and roughhousing with his two children.