The Glass Womb
Scott Hughes

While his mother slept, Oliver hid in the closet. By the light from under the door, he found a Mason jar beneath the afghans. Neither pickled eggs nor homemade preserves -- more baby bird than human, bulbous gray head. Purple eyes. Holes where ears should've been. Between its legs, the node of a penis.
Oliver tucked the jar under the afghans. He had a little brother on the way.

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