“Why are you telling us this?” I asked over the thunder of blood in my ears. His white drool spilled to the floor.
“Because there is nothing you can do.”
It was at that moment that a spider chose to creep from its cinderblock shelter and scuttle across my hand. My heart leapt; my grip loosened by reflex; and the cinderblock went tumbling. It landed with an awful crunch, sinking through jaw and throat.
“Mona!” Mom shrieked. I stumbled back. “Mona, oh God!” All I could see was the terrible flash as concrete had pulled chin toward ear. “Mona...” I was sick in the dirt.
“Oh God,” I echoed. Flash of split face. Flash of flattened neck. “Oh my God.” We panted in silence.
Then – a gurgling came across the dirt. Laughter? Mom collapsed. I turned as some dark shape butted from the fallen cind
