The scrubber. That’s what they call her in the downstairs halls; upstairs: nameless, faceless, worthless. But she works at it.
All tagged Death
Homewards Bound
It’s impossible to ignore a car screaming fire and shrapnel as it smashes through your bedroom wall at three in the morning. Of course, my parents say it was my scream that woke them, or the thud as my body hit the floor, but I know they’re lying.
Bone orchard
I listen to their breath and sometimes, very faintly, in the middle of the night, if I lie flat on the grass and listen hard with my whole body, I can feel them shifting as they dream of the world beyond their earthen cradle.