It isn’t death that enters but my sister, which is not much different.
She’s wearing khaki pants and a black shirt that hugs the contour of her binder underneath. The leather eye patch is still in place, and she looks like a crossover between a pirate and an army officer. Her hair has been trimmed shorter, more ragged than the last time, as if chopped by unsteady hands with a kitchen scissors.
I guess old habits die hard.
From the corner of my eye, I see Theo shrink further into the darkness; repulsed by her presence.
“I’ve had a shitty night.” She sighs, flipping on a second light switch, scratching her head. Orange light floods the space, painting us all in a crude manner. She turns to me, clenching her jaws and moving her neck side to side, cracking whatever’s underneath. “And it’s
