Kat Campbell

Crush

The city is dark as she runs. Occasionally the glowing cinders of an abandoned drum fire hint at the presence of other stragglers, but there are no other signs of life. What could survive so many assaults, one after another? The air has a chalky brightness from all the concrete dust, smoke, tear gas, antiseptic spray. The sharp burn in her lungs has become her most constant favorite friend, a dependable voice at every turn.