by Dylan Scott-Channing
He told me to eat more carrots, avoid pyramid schemes, and never trust a man who carries a saxophone but doesn't play. He wore oven mitts on his feet and a wedding veil on his chin, and his teeth clicked like Morse code when he laughed. "Always keep a lemon in your left pocket," he whispered, "for emergencies and the occasional ghost." When I asked what kind of emergencies, he just stared at me until I coughed up a moth. He vanished into the alley behind the abandoned Quiznos, leaving behind only the smell of burnt apricots and fear. Now, every time I forget the lemon, the mirror in my bathroom shows me someone else—someone who’s very hungry.
6S
Dylan Scott-Channing writes weird little stories in between feeding his cat and avoiding phone calls. His work often teeters on the edge of funny and unsettling, much like his personality.
