But some mornings, the disguise fit so poorly she could feel the seams.
By day, she walked the campus library in a cardigan and glasses, her hooves hidden inside borrowed sneakers. She laughed at human jokes a second too late. She drank coffee black because that’s what the other graduate students did. But at night, her skull split open like a soft-boiled egg, and from the crack slithered a second spine of violet lightning. monster girl dreams minoni
Let them teach her about monsters, she thought, smiling a smile that was slightly too wide, slightly too sharp. She could teach them what loneliness actually tastes like. But some mornings, the disguise fit so poorly
The dream could wait.