She’s a woman out of her skin now, a changeling. And the skin she wants to shed is the grief, the lies, the torments of years playing second fiddle to every goddamn man who towered over her and thought themselves smarter because their hair was shorter and biceps bigger. [Read More]
She stood on the lower deck of the ferry. The wind beat her face and the salt stung her eyes. But she didn’t care: ahead was Seattle. Downtown’s glittering spires rose from brackish water like the tip of a submerged fantasy kingdom. Gulls screeched escort overhead, defying currents, until knifing down and whipping back out of view.