The world turns upside down.
My stomach slams against his shoulder, knocking the air from my lungs.
✧ The movement is constant — steady, merciless — like being carried by something that doesn’t tire, doesn’t even breathe like a man.
My hair drags in the dust.
✧ The smell of sulfur clings to it, thick and dry, stinging my throat each time I try to speak.
Beneath that, another scent — faint, metallic, almost sweet — the same one that clings to him.
✧ He doesn’t say a word.
His pace never falters.
✧ The ground changes under his boots — first gravel, then something smoother, darker, almost glassy.
I can feel it in the rhythm of his steps, in the sound they make.
✧ Each strike echoes, distant .
I twist against him, uselessly.
✧ The muscles in his back shift beneath me, all coiled te
