Demolition Before the Bloom

kept me awake. It kept me angry.

I kept the bloody towel pressed to my head with my left hand.

I reached into the pocket of my ruined dress with my right.

I pulled out my phone.

The screen was cracked from the fall, a spiderweb of shattered glass over the display.

My thumb hovered over the screen.

For a decade, I had refused to make this call.

I had promised continue reading …