Itchy Bones by Olive Ann

I fear my bones will begin to itch. The thought plagues me during the day and keeps me up at night. I imagine how it would feel, beginning as a mild tingle that vanishes as soon as I am aware of its presence. Then, the sensation grows, and the more I ignore it, the worse it feels until I’m driven to scratch and scratch until my skin is red. Relief is immediate but vanishes as soon as I stop clawing at my skin. Even in my dreams I get no respite. I am stalked relentlessly by nightmares where the only way to make it stop is to get rid of my skeleton altogether. Maybe one day I will wake to find that my bones are gone, snatched in the night by a silent surgeon. I will lie on my bed, paralyzed by fear and lack of body structure.

Olive Ann’s writings are a blend of magical realism and horror. Her work has previously appeared in Prism and Oregon’s Best Emerging Poets 2019: An Anthology. She lives in Seattle and works as a technical writer. Her hobbies include writing in third person and breaking the fourth wall.