Whispers of a former life

Charity’s mouth opened, but nothing came out except a dry squeak that barely made it past her own ears. The air in Alejandra’s tiny living room felt too thin, too…

Alejandra could still feel the stale warmth of the coffee cooling in her stomach when she sat back down on her threadbare sofa, phone in hand, thumb hovering over the…

Charity’s knees gave out so suddenly she didn’t even register the jolt,  her tiny frame sank onto the wide, barren expanse of Alejandra’s battered coffee table, her arms trembling from…

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…