⠀⠀⠀“I’m being buried, I think, under all this rubble,” is what I say to her. She nods like she understands but I don’t think she does. I don’t try to elaborate. ⠀⠀⠀“What’s the rubble made of,” she asks instead. ⠀⠀⠀“Bricks and concrete. Stone. It’s made of heavy things with too many sharp edges. As rubble […]
Main Squeeze Literary Journal 