Read by Grace Cookey-Gam - podcast here (fourth story)
Medusa slips into the sultry water, and the snakes sway and hiss about her head. Perhaps they move in pleasure, or revulsion, or annoyance; she’s not sure, she doesn’t understand them yet, these new slithering appendages of hers.
She tries to forget. Relax. Be tranquil.
But out of the corners of her eyes, scales, like green teardrops, pulsate. Black horizontal slits, situated on bulging metallic globes, fix and stare. Forked tongues, pink and unsated, dip into the water, and sip.
Continue reading "Medusa Takes a Bath, and Becomes a Monster by Mina Ma" »