# Read the first page of Nothing Untoward by Clay McLeod Chapman Read the opening of Nothing Untoward by Clay McLeod Chapman free, no signup. Forty short stories finding horror in ordinary households. - Page: https://uncovered.ink/read/nothing-untoward-clay-mcleod-chapman - Genre: Horror - Year: 2017 - ISBN: 9781495061042 - Read it blind (cover and title hidden): https://uncovered.ink/?b=9781495093814&s=read-page - Buy: https://bookshop.org/a/125786/9781495061042 - Borrow: https://search.worldcat.org/search?q=9781495061042 ## The opening Shelly’s at that age where she’ll put just about anything into her mouth. Case in point—just the other day, we were in our backyard. Remember when the temperature finally hit the sixties? Not a cloud in the sky? That day. Seemed like a perfect opportunity to let her loose. Explore the great wide open of our own backyard. Lord knows I needed to escape the house, get some fresh air. Shelly’s off and crawling across our lawn, tugging up clumps of grass by the fistful, while I just collapsed into one of the deck chairs along our back patio and promptly passed out. Naptime for Mommy . . . I couldn’t have dozed for more than a minute. Two minutes, absolute tops. I open my eyes—and there’s Shelly, sweet lil’ Shelly, sitting upright all on her own. Her lips peel back to flash me that gummy grin of hers. Total Kodak moment. Her tulip dress scrunches up around her waist just a bit, baring her knees. She’s peppered in grass, head to toe, a few stray blades skewering her corn-silk hair. There’s this sliver of pink wriggling against her lips. At first, I think she’s sticking her tongue out at me. But her tongue seems to be struggling. Resisting the rest of her. Is that a worm . . .? No—this is segmented, whatever it is. Elbowed. I rush right over—and sure enough, there are shards of eggshell scattered in her lap. All around her feet. Shelly’s gumming a baby robin, freshly hatched. I see the nest now, perched in the birch just above her head. The infinitesimal peeps of this chick’s siblings chirp out for their fallen family member—while the contours of my daughter’s cheek keep shifting, ballooning out as that newborn bird butts its head up against the inside of her mouth, struggling blindly to find a way out. One of its featherless wings has wrestled free from her lips, scissoring against her button nose like an undercooked buffalo wing fighting back its attacker. Shelly Anne Lassiter, I shout. Get that thing out of your mouth this instant! I have to dig my finger in. There’s just no other way. Cupping the back of Shelly’s head with one hand, I push my pointer through her lips and try to scoop that robin out from her jaws. I can feel the crunch of the hatchling’s toothpick skeleton against my skin as Shelly only bites down harder. Biting me now. Her own mother. Felt like a mousetrap made of Bubble Yum and bone snapping against my knuckle. I yank my hand back—intact, thankfully. Cupped in my palm is whatever’s left of that robin, nothing but a knot of pink limbs tangling into one another now. This crumpled mess of wet origami. Poor thing hadn’t even opened its eyes yet, a pummeled sheath of purple skin still sealing them off. One of the eyeballs had popped, dribbling from the lid. I’m getting ophthalmic jelly all over my hands now. Splendid. Shelly starts waaaailing because I’ve taken her food away. All the blood in her peanut-shaped body boils up into her head, flushing her cheeks beet red. A slender tendril of drool snakes down her chin as she just keeps howling and howling, a piece of eggshell still clinging to the contorted corner of her lower lip. Shelly just doesn’t understand. Just doesn’t get it. One simple rib, one stray splinter of bone could bury itself in the back of her throat and cause her to choke, and that would be that, now, wouldn’t it? That’s why mama birds have to chew their babies’ food first, I tried to explain before popping the robin into my own mouth, mincing it down into a pretty sufficient pre-masticated pâté for her. Na wopen wie, hon, wo mwawa can weed oo . . . ## Books with a similar feel - [Echoes by Ellen Datlow](https://uncovered.ink/read/echoes-ellen-datlow.md) - [Spin a Black Yarn by Josh Malerman](https://uncovered.ink/read/spin-a-black-yarn-josh-malerman.md) - [The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor LaValle](https://uncovered.ink/read/the-ballad-of-black-tom-victor-lavalle.md) - [Witchcraft for Wayward Girls by Grady Hendrix](https://uncovered.ink/read/witchcraft-for-wayward-girls-grady-hendrix.md) - [World War Z by Max Brooks](https://uncovered.ink/read/world-war-z-max-brooks.md) - [The Bewitching by Silvia Moreno-Garcia](https://uncovered.ink/read/the-bewitching-silvia-moreno-garcia.md) --- Source: Uncovered (https://uncovered.ink). A short sample shown for reading and discovery. Rights holders can request removal at https://uncovered.ink/takedown.