All Stories, Horror

The World in My Eyes by L’Erin Ogle

The worms are hook shaped, tiny translucent segments with black antennas and bulbous brown eyes, specks floating.

I can see them in the corner of my eyes, wiggling and multiplying.

They have to come out.

The doctor thinks I’m crazy.  I tell him about the worms squirming away in my eye, swimming in my tear ducts.  I see them, whether my eyes are open or closed.  I feel them, the same way I could feel a bug in my ear, a spider in my mouth.  The relentless whisper of antenna against my eyelid makes it twitch nonstop.

Continue reading “The World in My Eyes by L’Erin Ogle”

All Stories, General Fiction

I’ll Tell You Your History by L’Erin Ogle

They never tell you how hard it is to love someone.  Or how hard it is to be loved.

The first person you ever think you love is the shift manager of the restaurant of your first job.  He’s twenty, four years older than you, and you don’t even know him.  He doesn’t know you.   All you remember about this first love, the one you aren’t ever supposed to forget, is that your first kiss was a shotgun hit of weed that turned into tongues and teeth mashed together, that later he vomited tequila in the sink and then you fucked in the spare room of your friend’s house.  You were so drunk you didn’t realize you started your period and it looked like a crime scene, which seems appropriate now.  Anymore, sex and love seem like crime.

Continue reading “I’ll Tell You Your History by L’Erin Ogle”