by: Surina Venkat
My dog Max found me in the living room. He sniffed my feet before nudging at my arms – he wanted me to pet him. My mother hummed in the kitchen, the smell of liver wafting from the stove. She liked to make Max human food because she said he enjoyed it.
Max whined, disappointed I couldn’t pet him. He began licking the blood puddled under my torso.
Surina Venkat is a writer from West Melbourne, Florida who has short stories and essays published in Ayaskala Literary Magazine, Flash Frontier, and more. When she isn't reading or writing, she can be found on a run with her dog or listening to a podcast.