Fiction Friday: Celery

Celery Ashleigh Hatter She liked the crunch of things. Many things. Lots of different kinds of things. Of chips and uncooked rice. Of apples and tree bark. Of fingers and celery. Yes, she liked to chew, to snap, to crunch lots of things, but she loved her celery the most of all. Hooded, cozy, sniffing the cold, she stole into the world, shutting her door, licking her lips. Imagining, picturing a crunch. Her jaw seized, and it was usual. Very normal. Very typical. The doctor said so, and the doctor…