The support group met on Tuesday nights
in the basement of the community center.
The introductions went around
the little circle of the afflicted,
ending with the new girl, a slumped blonde
who said to her hands, “My husband and I
just discovered we’re both carriers
for Tay-Sachs disease.”
“How awful,” said the mummy,
picking at a loose strip of linen.
“I wouldn’t want to trade,” the werewolf said quietly.