t e e t h

by Polina Volochay

Holding the wheel straight, arms like pistons, I make my way down the freeway in my black speeding bug. This is something I can keep up for a while, no turns, no swerving to avoid bodies, no animal crunching. I count my teeth with my tongue, all 32 of them. Or 47. Or 93. They multiply like fleas and I lose count. I keep my arms straight and the pedal down. I overtake the other bugs. I am the sleekest bug on the freeway. I hope for a brick wall to leap over like in the computer games. There is none. I count my teeth with my tongue.

Polina Volochay lives in London. She is an aspiring ball of mist and mortar and a passive human being.