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"There were no monsters. She remembered that now too. They weren't real, Mama had said. They couldn't hurt you. There was nothing under the bed. Nothing that could devour her whole. Nothing with gnashing teeth or slavering jaws. Mama had told her so.
But Mama had lied.
Mama had met monsters, and so would Ellen. They had square brown hands, and teeth white and gleaming. They sang sweet words from soft lips -- at first."
Lyrically written, these two short stories operate in the boundaries between love and hate and right and wrong,a and will stay with the reader long after the final word is read.
Warning: Mature Content
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