Follicles

“Lydia,” Countess Eleanor whined, “why can’t you take better care of your hair?” One, two, three. Her mother always brushed her hair in three succinct strokes before taking a breath. This meticulousness always unnerved Lydia: for one, because her mother never seemed to notice that she was doing it, and two, because she couldn’t stand […]

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How to Start a Fire

“Cross your fingers and pray,” Micah says. I hold my breath in anticipation, my chest tight. My heart is empty and the moon is full. We just rolled out of bed with matching bruised eyes. Neither of us are ready to be swallowed by the earth yet. The night is almost too long.

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