Milk Like a Melted Ghost

I have a new story up in Abjective today called "Milk Like a Melted Ghost." Darby Larson rocks, and I thank him immensely for accepting this. It's an excerpt from a longer story of the same title, some lines of which include:

It’s impossible for an organism considering its own consciousness, its own existence, to remain objective.

And:

She wondered if she could ignore this. Having something to ignore made her feel less lonely.

And:

Nothing seemed familiar because it wasn’t. Nothing was ever the same. Change was supposed to be one of those beautiful things in life. Everyone said that, everyone said that same thing the same way and no one ever dared alter that story. What tightened Clarabelle’s screws was, she figured by now she’d be used to adjusting.

And:

Clarabelle bent down, looking at the eyelashes floating in the melted ghost of milk, thought they said something, like words do.