Barbi stands with her back to the mountains, arms raised. Behind her, heat-haze suggests a lake where there isn't one. Jack revs his engine. For a minute, I forget I'm gonna lose. When the dust settles, Jack’s waiting, already smoking. Barbi, though, she saved her smile for me. Featured image by Norbert Schmitz from Pixabay
Anji was blessed never to know darkness—I thought.
“Did it hurt?” I look behind me, at the bare spot on the white stone of the road. In the palace, my shadow might even now be slipping under a door, stealing a life. “No,” I tell my daughter. It will hurt later, when my shadow comes home. Featured image by TheAndrasBarta from Pixabay
I am beautiful, I know.
We had come so close. We rationed proteins, we doled out water in scant mouthfuls. If we were careful, there would be just enough. Then we ran out of fuel. Outside, a blue-green world rotates tantalizingly out of reach. I lick my dry lips and send another mayday.
Christine Hanolsy 