THE WOMAN DOWN THE HALL by Lily Hoang /// laminationcolony.com
I have never killed a woman, but I have often wondered how I would do it. Now, I wonder if her neck, which is not slender or thick, would be easy to grasp or if my large hands would simply slip from smooth skin. But of course I imagine that her skin would not be particularly smooth or rough. It is simply her way.

But I am not sympathetic. She disturbs me, and this is something I do not allow.

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This woman sleeping down the hall from me, from us, she has slept for days and days and still will not emerge. She has snored and ground her teeth, and this disrupts my nights. But then, they also manage to disrupt my days, and it is for this reason that I wish to kill her. Now. While she is sleeping. Because lord only knows how long this woman can sleep.

I am certain that she can have little more than blistered gums by now. It’s that sound of bone scraping against bone. It’s not just a sound. It’s really happening. This woman sleeping, she must have a burden that nestles like a bird, and hungry, it scrapes and scrapes and she must have nothing left in her mouth but the bloody remnants of that secret, whatever that secret may be.