Her small hands are clumsy and feet wobbling. She has no grasp of the present, except knowing she cannot hold onto it. Everything is shadows, and everything is meant to entertain her. She giggles, laughs and points in delight, before falling to the ground again and letting shadows pick her up. There is only one thing clear to her, the cold touch of glass, a small ob
The girl wakes beneath the glaring sun. At first, she doesn't know, but then she realizes what passed. She rests her forehead on her knees, her fingers entwined with one another-her only comfort. She wants to sob, but does not. Instead, a sharp inhale, a throbbing throat, and she swallows down her sadness. She will forget this just like she's forgotten everything else. At least for those chaotic moments in the night, she was not so silent. Only in her druken stupor did she know.