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Michelle sat in the corner as she did every night. Forty minutes, rain or shine, use as directed. The mask, porcelain plastic, was featureless on her face. tinted glass on round eyeholes, the barest hint of eyebrows, and an opening at the bottom of a sculpted nose. The control unit, which drooped at the end of a coiled wire sprouting from a square nub at the end of the mask’s chin, sat in Michelle’s hand.

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“That thing creeps me right the hell out,” said Dennis, Michelle’s husband. She didn’t respond–movement during the treatment was strictly forbidden–but he thought he glimpsed a subtle flaring of nostril through the breathing hole.

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Michelle bundled herself up for her treatments, the hood of her robe covering her head, tights beneath it, and slippers over those. With her hands withdrawn into ample sleeves, virtually none of her skin was showing. If not for the rising and falling of her chest, Dennis would have thought her dead, or a mannikin.

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“Come on, Michelle, it’s been almost an hour already,” said Dennis. “Take that thing off.”

Michelle’s breathing subtly altered its rhythm but she said nothing.

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“Dammit, Michelle, this isn’t funny.” Dennis was in a foul mood, as he always was. Michelle hiding beneath yet another thing to keep from talking to him was not helping.

He strode over to her. He stood over her. Staring daggers, he tried to communicate wordlessly that she needed to start minding him, or there would be hell to pay.

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“So help me God, Michelle, I will rip that creepy-ass thing off your face if you don’t give me the goddamn common courtesy of looking me in the eye and answering me.”

Reaching up to grab the mask, Dennis gasped when Michelle shot out an arm to seize his wrist. Wrapped in a glove of loose bathrobe, he couldn’t see her fingers but they were exerting a force far beyond anything she should have been capable of generating.

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Dennis howled as his wrist snapped, tinder in a fire stoked with pain. His howl turned into a frenzied screeching as Michelle rose, locked her leg behind his, and pushed. His weight against him, Dennis dislocated something with a wet popping sound and tumbled to the ground.

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Michelle crouched down over her husband’s body. Paying no heed to the racket he was raising, she obeyed his earlier missive and removed the mask. His cries reached a feverish peak as he saw what lay beneath…and saw it occluded by the mask slipping over his own features.

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