“It is now, and in this world, that we must live.” The little inscription fell out of the crescent-shaped cookie when she broke it in half. Her squad mates scoffed at it, trampled the box, thumped her head, and ordered her to pick up the pace; too soon would the raiders return to camp, too soon would the dust storms descend. She clipped the fortune under her helmet, her mind hungry for weeks — what other voices lay hidden, trapped, inside their stolen rations? 



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s