monday’s child
Standing in the shower, letting the water run over her, washing it away, washing everything away, she realises that what made it the hardest was that it had smelled just like her own high school.
She had walked through the corridors, heart beating raggedly in her chest, smelling that school smell, and it all came back to her.
It was only what, six years, maybe less, since it had been her running from locker to classroom, since she had watched her friends crying and raging (...)

Read more