Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz
She doesn't have a gun, but she could get one. She wants to tell him that. Let him know she's not afraid.
Not of him, squatting there in the glow of the nightlight in the corner of the children's room, chomping on the leftover cookies she�d brought up earlier. Crumbs fall between his pointy paws to the floor.
Standing in the doorway, she rubs the space between her eyes, readying for another night of watch. She takes a moment to glance at the five- and three-year olds tucked in the twin bed, the baby snug in the bassinette, then her eyes dart back to him.
Something thick with foam drools down his pickled skin as he slurps at the newborn's discarded bottle.
I will kill them before you get a claw close, she hisses.
A furry brow rises in curiosity as his speckled eyes turn to her. His crackled teeth shine as he grins wide, daring her: *do it.*
Bio:Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz is a fiction writer and poet. View her blog at www.gwennotes.blogspot.com or her chapbook, \"Mother Love,\" at http://www.unlikelystories.org/mintz0607.shtml
Motivation: I wanted to personify what post-partum must feel like in its extreme
Art by: Nick Benjaminsz