A Shellfish Allergy.
(a short story)
hello, friend. keeping it short and sweet today. this is a new old thing, writing short stories :)
crowdfunding page for my bookstore startup:
Blue.
Farris lay buried in the wash of it, arms and legs locked fast beneath the seabed’s grip. Entirely submerged, she could still breathe. No bubbles bloomed at the creak of her darkened lips. Creatures drifted above her, difficult to parse: some vast enough to eclipse her bedroom ceiling, others thin and macabre, their translucent skin barely holding them together. Dock fish with too-long limbs dragged from their torsos. Whales reduced to the scale of hake.
Her chest burned. Thought narrowed to a single instruction: move slowly, or inhale the sea. Beneath her feet, debris and coral shifted. Gorgeous stones and shards of graphite lifted from the sand, grazing her bruised body. Strangely, she felt nothing. The material world seemed to lose its structure on contact with her, as if matter no longer agreed to behave.
She raised a hand toward her thigh. Something moved.
A murky form gathered above her legs, swirling itself into shape—a German Shepherd crossed with a turtle, eyes sunk too far back into an anapsid skull. She tried to scream as it drifted toward her pelvis. Sensation returned all at once: a searing pinprick, then nothing. Her legs went numb.
An uneven hum began. The creature’s mouth stayed closed, its bear-trap jaws motionless. From the graphite came a smell. It was acrid, chemical, like a chlorinated pool. It did not touch her. It only watched. Veins rose along her stomach. She couldn’t see them, only feel the pressure beneath her skin. The smell tugged at her eyes. Heat followed. Tears leaked from her ears instead, streaming uselessly into the blue. The veins tightened, knotting, growing impatient, as though they were stretching her flesh from the inside. The creature wanted something. It wanted it now.
Her dark braids flayed outward, pulled from her scalp as if by opposing tides. Force came from everywhere at once. Frustration sharpened her focus. She gathered what power she had left and pushed back.
The pressure drew in on itself. A sharp break rang through her body. From somewhere low and deep, grey surged upward, the blood warping as it climbed, thick, jaundiced by the time it reached her chest. Farris seized.
Farris, you’re not as brave as everyone thinks you are. I want you to see how easy it is for me to break you. To tear you apart, you coward. You’re easy, little girl. EASY. You stupid, docile mutt.
“Fae. Fae, are you okay?”
Haru’s voice cut through the noise. Her beautiful face had gone pale with concern, an eyebrow pencil hovering too close to her pink-stained lips. Farris dragged her gaze to the open sliding door, then around the compact, warm bedroom: mismatched furniture, streaks of white and blue catching the light. Haru’s bedroom. They were in Haru’s bedroom. Getting ready for a dinner party.
She was okay.
Farris sat up in the antique recliner tucked into the corner. “Sorry. Fuck. It’s getting really bad, isn’t it?” Her voice came out rough as she rubbed her eyes. They stung.
“Of course not.” Haru softened instantly. “You’re okay, friend. I just got worried. That lasted longer than usual. Your daydreaming isn’t usually so—”
“Long?” Farris offered.
“…Unsettling,” Haru corrected gently. “You looked angry. I haven’t seen that face in a while.”
She pulled up a seat in Farris’s lap, familiar as breath. Farris sank deeper into the cushion, adjusting to hold Haru’s tall frame comfortably, tucking her long legs in. They studied each other for a while, the climactic urgency had altogether paused when Haru called for her.
“What did you see?”
Farris shook her head. Most of it was already gone. The images had slipped away as they always did, leaving only a tight, sour pull in her gut. Her mind loved the aftertaste of things left out too long. That felt worse somehow, being haunted by something she couldn’t fully recall.
“I was underwater,” she said finally, eyes tracing the freckles on Haru’s chin. “And something was eating at me from the inside. But it was also watching me? I don’t know. It was just… mean. I think I’m losing it.”
Haru drew her closer, tucking Farris’s head against her chest and threading her fingers through her braids. “What it said wasn’t true.”
Farris huffed weakly, eyes fluttering shut. “How do you know? I could be the worst person in the world, and you still wouldn’t admit to it.”
The admission made her cringe. Casual cynicism always did. Especially when it meant confessing how easily she believed the worst things about herself—how even a fictional monster could get under her skin. Why did cruelty always sound more convincing than care?
“What it said was not true, Fae” Haru’s voice left no room for negotiation. “I’m not debating this with you.”
Farris exhaled.
“I know every vision is different,” Haru continued, calmer now. “But they all try to do the same thing. Convince you you’re fake. That you’re pretending. None of that is real.”
Farris let the words wash over her, even if part of her resisted them. Their friends would be expecting them soon, but neither of them seemed to care. Not yet. Silence settled in. The room hummed gently; a sagewood candle burned low, a grass-like diffuser lingering in the air. Late afternoon sunlight slipped through Haru’s cheap blinds, striping the floor. Farris focused on the softness of Haru’s white sweater against her bare stomach, the children roaring with laughter outside, the pressure of Haru’s body on her thighs. It felt good to be weighed down like that, with love, not terror.
She’d only thrown on a tank top and jeans before dissociating. It had lasted minutes. It always did. Inside the visions, though, time stretched cruelly. Sometimes, hours of sensation were compressed into moments. She’d stopped trying to control them. It felt pointless. At least her friends knew how to move around her episodes without turning them into spectacles. Normalcy made her feel almost sane. Almost.
Haru checked her watch and murmured something under her breath.
“You okay?” Farris asked.
“Yeah. Just calculating how rude Joel’s going to be if we arrive after him.”
Farris snorted. Joel’s devotion to authority without responsibility had been a running joke since high school. He was power hungry and chronically unprepared, and still, somehow, lovely. One of their dearest friends.
They stood. Haru helped her up when Farris’s back protested the chair, and despite everything, she felt lighter. If surviving meant moments like this, she could carry the weight. She could even carry the way Haru smothered her in light.
“I have no plan for this outfit,” Farris said, studying herself in the mirror. “I thought black on black might… do something.”
“It does,” Haru said. “We’re kind of matching. I’ve got the white jersey and the beige skirt. You can add your leather jacket and my scarf.”
“And my hair?” Farris groaned. “I barely got my edges done before the great vision.”
Haru laughed and reached for a jade claw clip. She gathered the knotless braids with practised care, smoothing stray strands before twisting them up and securing them. The ends spilled over softly, blooming like something alive.
Satisfied, Haru grabbed her phone. Farris found hers and followed her to the kitchen.
“Uber or walking?”
“It’s freezing,” Haru said, already placing the order. “Seven minutes. Did you take your insulin?”
“Yeah.” Farris patted her bag. “And I am definitely not about to suggest we bail and order ramen instead.”
Haru stared at her.
“A joke,” Farris rushed. “It was a joke.”
They locked up and stepped into the quiet of the complex. Autumn had littered the streets with crisp leaves and fallen jacaranda petals. Life moved on around them, indifferent and busy. A black Prius waited at the curb. Checks made and doors closed, the city slid back into motion.
Farris pulled up the map on her phone and watched the route load. For a moment, the screen reflected her face. Steady. Ordinary.
Still, as the car pulled away, she felt it.
Not fear. Not exactly.
Just the faint impression of pressure above her, as if something unseen were lingering there. Watching. Waiting. Patient enough to let her pretend she was fine. And in some ways, perhaps she was.
She swallowed, adjusted her scarf, and leaned back into the seat.
It had only been a daydream, after all.
yours,
Thando x
Absolutely Beautiful Story <3