Face TakerDreamed a coterie of rich old ladies, and the occasional dandy, were employing black market catburglers to steal the faces of the young and beautiful.  The last were abducted, and drugged, their faces surgically removed, then dumped, faceless (but very much alive, sadly), in back alleys.  Then the crones would replace their own wrinklly faces with the smooth young ones, telling friends they’d simply “had work done.”

I caught onto them, though, when I bumped into a dowager with the identical countenance of a recently abducted friend.  I woke up screaming “Face taker!  Face taker!”  It was delightful.  I suppose it would make for a good story.  A little pulpy, though.  We’ll see …

Not much else to report.  But watch for my new children’s story, about a girl who’s fed – by a witch – to a tiger – in next month’s knowonder! magazine.


2 thoughts on “THE FACE-TAKERS

  1. More a matter, Donna, in this case, I think, of what one DOESN’T take. I find withdrawal always makes for the most splendid nightmares. If only the DTs didn’t make it so damn difficult to drink one’s coffee without screaming …

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