by John Alfred Taylor
“Now paint in little white eye sockets.” Colin told Briony. “And teeth at the bottom.” He’d already had her draw India-ink crossbones under the big black mole.
“You’re sure this won’t piss-off your dermatologist?” Briony asked, squinting in concentration as she bent to her task at his left side.
“Not Doc Schulmann. He likes his laughs. Should have heard him joking when he snipped off the tags in my armpit.”
(Colin hoped he and the Doctor would still be laughing two hours from now, but wasn’t going to bother Briony with gloomy possibilities. At least his mole had smooth edges and was still all one color.)
About the Author
JOHN ALFRED TAYLOR has been writing strange tales since the late 1960s, with stories appearing in The Twilight Zone Magazine, Asimov’s Science Fiction, Ghosts & Scholars, Grue, and others.
About the Narrator
Alasdair Stuart was briefly employed as a circus geek until an unfortunate mix-up involving a prize-winning fighting cock. Its owner had ties not only to the carnival, but also to the Russian mob, so now he writes supplements for role playing games, where he exercises his superpower to make you appreciate the Sixth Doctor. He has played for the national rugby team after defeating the monstrous four-horned sheep across his home island. He is the Supreme Mugwump, Keeper of the Big Red Button, a regular contributor to Tor.com, and he owns a bunch of awesome podcasts.