The scream rips from my mouth, taking dark shape, all hairy legs and teeth and talons. It lands on the bed, gutting the mattress. It assaults the walls, clawing chunks of drywall away. Then it shatters the window, escaping.

I stand in the wreckage, horrified.

I long to escape, too.

Kristin Fast likes the shape words make in her mouth, and enjoys corralling them on the page.