We Are All in the Same Boat
We pull in the first wrong thing at two a.m., under a choppy wind and reddening moon. It’s not discovered until two fifty-five a.m, after the great nets have been poured through the processing machines and seas of pelagic fish spill over the lip of the conveyor belt. It’s an apprentice who spots it.
Content warnings 3
animal-harmbody-horrorsexual-violence
Quasar links out; the story lives on Nightmare, where the author gets the click.