The towers waver in my vision. I blink, but the sweat still drips into my eyes. I know I’m close, I know that I must keep on, but my mouth is dry and my body aching. One step and another, I must keep going, I must.
Hmm. Thought I missed a day, but I posted twice yesterday. Strange. I suppose my sleepless nights are catching up to me…
I curl into the terrycloth robe, the softest I’ve ever felt. I’m out of place, here, with these long-legged, fur-stripped women. I feel like an imposter. I want to move, scream, run. I want to shout, do you see me? Do you see that I am different? I cannot be made like you.
Her headphone disappear into dusky red curls, wrapped in ribbons of dark golden red. They’re the old kind, the big clunky things you don’t see much anymore, at least in these parts. I like it. Kind of a retro look, I guess, but it fits this anonymous girl somehow.
The branches flex in the wind, moving more gently than the brisk gusts would suggest. I wonder if they’re further away than I think, or bigger, or if I’m just dehydrated and exhausted and hallucinating. I wouldn’t be surprised. How long have I been out here, days? Maybe a week? I’m beyond recalling.
The room is still, like a breath held. Still not like absence, but with the feeling of something coming. Empty, curtains fluttering, the soft gray light of dawn seeping into every crack and crevice of the ancient floor.