• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 06
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Crush Shells

“What’re you a girl? Just break it.”

My father grabs the leg and its spines tear at the skin of my palm.

Blood, brighter than the crabs Mom boiled, beads on white flesh.


Bare hands flex.


His teeth pry meat sparse as our table from broken shell. My envious belly grumbles.

“See that? Ain’t nothin’.”

He dips it in the china bowl painted with skyless blue birds; butter runs down his chin as he swallows.


He tosses the carcass onto my plate.

“You do the rest.”

Crab Night sucks.

“I won’t coddle you th’way your mom does.”

The knife is cool in my hand as I hover it over my last leg. Angry, I crush it like a man.