Kylan Man

Art by Rebecca Kartchner You ever hear skin stretch? Not like a cut or scrape — I mean real, thick, human skin. The kind that takes effort. It sticks. It resists. But when it gives… it sounds like wet paper ripping. I still hear it sometimes, even when I’m alone. Especially when I’m alone. I was sixteen when I left. Eugene, Oregon. Nobody noticed. Not the neighbors. Not the teachers.