The Distant Wound
The air in the cafeteria of St. Jude’s Academy for Gifted and Exceptional Youth smelled of boiled cabbage and old sweat, a thick, cloying mist that seemed to cling to the skin like a second, heavier coat. We sat in the long, scarred wooden tables that stretched out under the fluorescent hum, a buzzing, yellow light that turned every face into a pale, waxen mask of compliance, and I watched my...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima