N7
From the newsagents where we stole penny sweets
To the front gate where I skinned my shin.
From the newsagents where we stole penny sweets
To the front gate where I skinned my shin.
The cordon contains us.
The device was simple and small.
“He did say this would be cumulative, right?”
Surreality. To think that I actually go here.
Twenty-five young women lined the two walls of the hallway, some sitting, others upright and leaning, book bags and purses scattered about their feet.