Sorry, Mom, but I Didn't Love You (preview)

 

 

 I have been searching for a home for this story since 2014. Fifteen rejections later, it finally has one.

This story is grotesque. It contains body horror and unconditional love. Enjoy.

Sorry, Mom, but I Didn't Love You

(preview)

 

I’m standing in my personal gymnasium looking at myself in the wall mirror. I don’t see my reflection. I don’t see myself. All I can see is her. All I can remember is her.

In the year 2001, my mother’s spine began growing out her ear. I noticed it one morning while she was getting ready for work.

“Mom, what’s that?” I asked and pointed at the small vertebrae poking out of her ear canal.

She smiled at me and said, “It’s my spine, son.”

Now I was only seven at the time, so I was still a kid, but I was beginning to develop the ability to question what I was told. Somehow I had this feeling that it wasn’t just something to smile about.

“Is it supposed to do that?”

“To do what?” she asked. When I didn’t say anything, she told me goodbye, gathered her purse and walked out the door.

For the next week or two, whenever mom came near me I hid from her. When she looked at me, I hid around the corner. When she touched me, I pulled away and ran to my room. She talked with me numerous times, but her explanations never shed any more light on it. She would ask what was bothering me. Every time I would say, “Why is your spine doing that?”

Mom would say things like:

“It’s okay, son. It’s just my spine.”

“It’s part of my body, like my nose.”


...read the rest of this timeless tale of unconditional love in The Best of Bizarro Fiction vol 1, from Planet Bizarro Press.