The tiny bathroom was stifling, and the exhaust fan pulled the air weakly. Grandma’s trailer never had been air conditioned, and in the summer it became as hot and greasy as a stovetop popcorn popper.

The yellowing linoleum squeaked as he stretched higher to the mirror to inspect his reflection. A fine web of cracks netted the skin of his face and neck like cracks on desert ground. He turned his head slightly, inspecting, and they split and bled. Split and bled and clotted and split again.

The already fierce morning sun was stifled in the drab beige & orange walls. The upholstery, wood panelling, and carpet, all the same, and the brown cigarette smoke coating all surfaces. He heard a hoarse cough and startled, then held still like a rabbit, staring until all was truly quiet again.

Danny’s eyes were watering like crazy from the super glue fumes as he carefully dabbed the clear liquid onto his skin to seal the cracks, dabbed and dabbed until his face and neck were a glistening scab.