THE CLOWN WAS SHRIEKING ,   laughing ,  noise that bulges from a bloody rictus .   jeering  and  cruel  while her  tongue  singes .   the teacup ,  now dangling after long - tined finger ,  shatters amid the clamour .   allows for all too merciful respite .   silence .   It glances a mosaic of porcelain pieces ,  slick still with filmy linings of pinkish - red .   unblinking eyes ,  nearly loose as those strewn over the table ,  reverse into sockets ,  glinting and pallid as fish bellies .   It raises the handle , hooks it âtween teeth ,  sets jaw to gnash and grind .  Â
those chitinous  hands  retrieve  from  the  clothed surface ,  glutting mouth  with  more ,  snapping  now  to  pulverize  porcelain .   (  crunch - crunch - crunch  )   they populate  Its  gums and lips ,  jutting new  incisors ,  and from their slices  mock blood spates forth .   grunts , gnars , giggles .   It aches not .   rabid beast shakes stringy mane .   bells cried festively from it .   lips close over carnage ,  purse ,  then rear back like circus curtains to reveal all remnant is swallowed .   all gone !
â  ââ they just p - p - pop in your mouth ,  â     lingua ,  dead and fissured as dry season ,  laps at maimed chops .   talon flicks a stray morsel like a marble ;   across the table it rolls wetly ,  and another ,  all eyes on her .   Its own ,  void of pupil and iris ,  gauge her too .      â  try it .  youâll like it .  youâll love it .   wonât be solly , cholly .  â
HER TONGUE COULDâVE BLED          just watching the glass cycle  âround &  âround  in its maw.   her throat was accustomed to gravel and  sharp bones  .   but the taste of those were abhorrent ;   if charlotte were to endure the taste of dirt,  blood,  and dead insects   -   she had better be being  buried alive  .   then,  sheâd  gladly  eat the earth.   sheâd swallow the forest floor whole!   would that make her powerful?   would that make her a worthy beast?   would swallowing glass and chipped porcelain make her any  sharper  as a creature?   one - handedly,  charlotte took the lid off the teapot filled with blood and placed in front of the clown.
then,  charlotte stuck out the tip of her tongue.   the flesh was sensitive to the frigid air,  practically  steaming  with the exposure because it was overly warm and  swollen  like a  balloon .   timidly,  she pressed the eyeball to tongueâs tip and waited for taste to register ;   but it never did.    â  no point eating for the first time if i canât even taste it,  â    she remarked,  almost  disappointed.   she rolled the eyeball between deft fingers,  made it vanish  ,  then reappear suddenly as it sat between her index and middle knuckles.    â  here.  â    the eyeball was knocked into the air,  caught midway in its upward flight,  and then,  tossed into the clownâs bloody maw.
â  next time.  iâll try one next time,  â    she claimed,  but the word  â promise  â  was markedly absent.   the tea had turned dark and was bitterly aromatic.   she filled her cup to the brim again and stuck her pinky finger in ;   wincing when she found it just as hot.   a loud scrap caused the house to  shudder ;   the pawn had dragged her chair closer to pennywise.   first,  she drew the toppled girl - meat off its seat and onto her lap.   she posed it as though it were a  doll  ,  then picked up the slicing knife off the table.   â  so!  iâd thought itâd be fun to kill two birds with one stone,  right?   you can have your snacks and i can practice my carving skills!  â    she waved the knife in a large,  general circle about the girlâs torso and smiled at It.    â  where should i start?  â