She watched a barn owl’s eyes and a flickering red light-bulb in the corner of the exhibit. I wonder if the owl knows it’s dark, she wondered. She bought a stuffed animal souvenir and later, cuddled it beneath her down comforter. She kissed him goodnight.
She slept through the storm. Rain threw itself against itself as leaves split down the center. The neighbor’s dog was carried away. Sirens screamed, the neighborhood children covered their heads, little fingers pressed to lips, echoing, shhh. She dreamt of triple axels and sequin snow as wind spun her around and around, breaking every bone.
Alicia Banaszewski (she/her) is a freelance writer based in St. Paul, Minnesota. She is a petite human with a big mouth that writes about books, TV, video games, and feminism. Website: http://aliciabanaszewski.com Twitter: @b___ski