A girl I know is sitting on her bed. She is crying.

"Why are you crying?" I ask. No reply. I sit down next to her. She looks lonely.

She is not alone, though. I am here, and so is Ice.

Ice is not her friend. That is me. Ice is her escape.

It burns, but she knows she deserves it. I almost pity her. Almost.

I know she deserves it too.

Metal joins us on ( Read more... )

 The light across the aisle goes off. Finally. No one else on the plane is awake. That would make sense, though: it's one in the morning, Madrid time ( Read more... )

touch and go ( Read more... )

The street lamp flickers. She stumbles onto the curb. Something is squeaking.

It is a rat.

Her hand touches her cheek. Blood.

Where did I put the bag?

Her clothes are ripped. She is cold.

Why does my head hurt?

She had too much to drink.

I did good tonight.

She turns right. The lights go out in the diner. She turns toward the dumpster. A strangled cry ( Read more... )

We've got fun and games ( Read more... )