Read by John Meagher (of The Tales of the Left Hand podiobooks)
Originally published in the What Fates Impose anthology, edited by Nayad Monroe.
My legs are tired from crouching, so I slide the empty backpack under my knees. Boxes and cellophane crinkle. Even though I’ve touched the wall, I try to shove my finger down my throat, but that just gives me a gag reflex with no payoff.
“Come on,” I mutter into the toilet bowl. The “clean” water ripples from my breath. “All I need are six numbers.”
The peeps finally come back up of their own accord, a flood of sweet foam that forms swirling pastel pink-yellow-blue mounds, floating islands of partially digested sugar studded over with flecks of pep eyeballs.
And then I’m standing at a track, with a wad of worthless receipts in my hand. The races are long over. There’s some guy sweeping under the seats, not looking me in the face.
Rated R. Contains F-bombs, Eating Disorders, and Peeps.