The God of Gifts

“I really want that old car we saw,” he said.

“Your new device isn’t enough?” she asked.

“I want something that I can tinker on,” he said.

Next morning as he backed from the garage, he saw a large black car, under a red bow, parked across the driveway. The passenger door stood invitingly open.

Wondering how she’d done it, he leaned in the open door.

The ribbon wrapped around his mouth and the bench seat collapsed over his body, sucking him into the car before it quietly drove from the neighborhood. It wouldn’t need to feed again for days.


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