Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:45 a.m.
keeps her eyes shut not because she’s sleepy, but because the sun stings them
so much. She likes the way it feels on her skin, though. The warmth helps her
forget about the cool, dark cavity where her heart should be. Her nose is hard
and strong, sharpened by the cruel deeds she commits daily. Exhaustion and even
boredom have started to plough their way across her forehead. She purses her
lips with dissatisfaction, then raises a napkin to cover the ugly expression.
At moments like these she wishes she could feel a bit more human.
I like how sinister my story turned out today, even though I suspect her cruel deeds are nothing more than telemarketing, or something like that.
Who's excited for Printer's Row Lit Fest this weekend! You know I am.