‘The world is not made up of atoms; it’s made up of stories.’ – Muriel Rukeyser
‘A week? A whole damn week?’ she complained.
That wasn’t what she had planned for. But then again, it wasn’t her who’d planned it. in the first place. Rolling her eyes at the sudden, unpleasant thought, she walked slowly across the room to the window. She stared out absently, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling the discomfort settle in.
‘Ah, she talks! A week, indeed,’ Tomás nodded in the background.
Her new place was clean and cold—like a cell.
You could feel like a queen if you lost your bad thoughts, she lied to herself. But you just had to make them known to everyone, didn’t you?
Continue reading “Badland”