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Fiction by Nada Alic. Illustrated by Paige Vickers.
The unnamed protagonist in this short story appears to have a rash on her body that only she can see. Her husband flat out thinks she’s making it up, the friends she calls on for help don’t really care, and although her therapist tells her that she can see the rash, isn’t that what she’s paid to say? A feeling of isolation — from others and maybe also from her already shaky sense of self — permeates our narrator’s reality.
Nada’s writing style is effortless, she’s naturally very funny; A reader will find themselves having a very pleasant time reading about the struggles of our story’s narrator as she suffers from a consuming rash, aching pains, and a desperate kind of restlessness around finding a cure for her ailment. The underlying questions that surface, though, carry heavier, all-too-familiar feelings. Is the rash imagined, or is it real? Do we believe her? What does it mean to believe without seeing?
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