Taste. Touch. All my senses begin to rouse themselves from slumber. A dark, massive cave. Water dripping from the ceiling and the crinkle of dead leav...s and grass underneath me. A sickly-sweet stench, like the birth of a lamb in the dead of night. The metallic taste of iron in my mouth, blood. And lastly, the delicate touch of eggshells underneath my naked back. “Eggshells? Did I land on an egg?” No. To my left is the empty husk of some massive egg beyond anything I have seen, the shredded. Outside the cottage were the carcasses of disemboweled cars and a few miserable looking dogs. It was not a pretty cottage, set in red brick and splattered by mud from the rain, but to Innocence’s rain-stung eyes it was the most welcoming sight imaginable. She gasped with relief as she and Dodie sheltered under the derelict porch amongst milk bottles and car engines while the woman pushed open the unvarnished door. Inside Innocence could hear a slight moaning from the kitchen as the woman pushed. More

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