Songs of My Selfie by Constance Renfrow

Author:Constance Renfrow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Three Rooms Press

BY THE MORNING, SHE SEEMED to have forgotten about her outburst and was sunnier than the sun. They tore the corners of four shrimp-flavored ramen packs and poured the flavoring into the bag of uncooked noodles. They shook and crushed the ramen and ate it like Cheetos, licking their fingers after.

“You know, we should probably stop eating so much seafood-related stuff,” she said sucking on her pinky.

“Why?” He looked in the fridge to see if he could find some beer.

“Well, if I’m going to be a mermaid and all.”

“I guess so. Maybe we should just eat sea kelp or something …” He found a single can of beer, behind an empty, crusty Ziploc bag. “Hey, you want to share this?”

He turned around only to find her on the cabin floor. She was shaking and her arms and legs were flopping on the floor like a fish, her hair spread out around her. She looked like an oracle, the moment before a message from the gods.

He dropped the beer and ran to her. He got on his hands and knees and wanted to help her but was afraid to touch her. He looked at the owner’s manual, dry now, but wrinkled. Nothing there on how to deal with seizures. He tried to remember, but all he could think of was how his scream might sound if he screamed, and how it would bounce off the walls of the cabin and come hurtling back at him.

Put something in her mouth was the best he could come up with, all he could remember. By the time he turned back to her she had stopped shaking but was on her back, gargling on her own spit. He turned her to her side and the spit came trickling out. It pooled on the floor, glistening.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you okay?”

She nodded once.

“Do you want to get up?”

She shook her head.

“Do you need me to do anything?”

She shook her head again. He tried to approach her to comfort her, but when he looked at her limp body he felt a sudden wave of nausea hit the bottom of his stomach.

“Okay,” he said and took a few steps back. “I’m just going to be over here. Just let me know if you do want something.”

She made a murmuring sound. He opened the owner’s manual, back to page 387. The pages crinkled like dried seaweed. He half read, half breathed, half listened.

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