The Tooth Fairy

A halo of blood surrounded the tooth, seeping into the cotton below. She grasped the pearl and studied it in the moonlight—this small pearl of bone, perfectly imperfect. She paused over the child, the soft breath of a peaceful sleep, undisturbed. 

Her attention returned to her treasure. She pondered its form, its texture, its taste. 

She leaned in close and whispered, “You remember me, don’t you?” 

She had made this tooth, it was hers to reclaim. 

She pulled the tooth closer and closer until it was inside her.  Flavour exploded on her tongue, the rich metallic tang enhanced by the soft essence of the child’s sweet saliva. Her molars ground the pearl to dust, swallowing the ghost of innocence with it. 

As she slipped out of the room, she gave one last look at her daughter's prone form, savouring the taste of her.

by Chantelle Mackintosh