![]() ![]() Or maybe it wasn’t a whole net of fish-they can’t do that here in inland America, can they?-but one or two of the really big fish, pulled up from the very bottom of the lake. She coughs again, has to close her eyes to keep from throwing up. My Heart is A Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones. Some men from the town gutted a big haul of them over the side of their boat, the intestines and non-meaty parts adhering together with the congealing blood to make a gooey floating scab. She covers herself with her arms, sits on her heels as best she can.Īnd now she knows what that smell has to be: fish guts. ![]() “Sven!” she calls to the blackness encroaching from all sides, now. what? A mat of algae? Lake scum? At this altitude, snow still in the ditches? She dry heaves, falls to her knees from it. ![]() He slips in almost without a sound, just one gulp and gone.Īlone on the canoe now, Lotte stands unsteadily, the back of her hand coming instantly up to her nose, her mouth-the smell from whatever stringy grossness Sven dragged in over the side. My Heart Is a Chainsaw, too, deals with a native character in today’s world: Jade Daniels, a half-indigenous girl who is obsessed with slashers, perhaps because her own life is monstrous in a. ![]()
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