Smallara

Charity clawed her way out of the nest of Alejandra’s old hoodie, dragging folds of fabric heavier than her whole body aside like she was tunneling through drifts of snow.…

Alejandra leaned against the edge of her cheap counter, the chill of the tile biting through her faded sweatpants, grounding her in the here and now. Her old phone lay…

Charity watched, powerless, as Alejandra rose from the bed like some ancient giant roused from her cavern. The mattress creaked under her shifting weight; the cold floorboards popped in protest…

Charity didn’t really sleep so much as drift in and out of a shallow haze, a restless half-dream where her old house flickered in and out behind Alejandra’s ragged walls.…

Charity didn’t remember falling asleep. She only remembered waking — again and again — each time to a new noise that made her heart leap against her ribs like a…

Charity didn’t even have time to brace herself. One second she was a quivering bundle deep in the folds of Alejandra’s worn hoodie, the next, the entire cocoon lifted clean…