There wasn’t much light left as I reached the foot of the mountains. My stockings were soaked through with mud and Lord knew where my shoes had been left.
Probably got hurled after me when I fell off the wagon - thrown off, really. One of those awful weeks that were so bad I could barely remember how I’d ended up caked in mud crawling up a mountain.
I suppose it was my fault for stealing. But I was so hungry I thought I’d go mad, and no one else seemed to want it.
Pushing my way through brambles that snagged my braid and crusty dress, I looked around at the solemn pine giants that rose like wooden pillars to hold up the fading sky.
I stopped climbing for a breathless moment, something warm and wet brushing against my memory. I sprinted up the mountain, getting some elevation, and looked out over the rest of the range.
AdvertisementsShe was only six when the funeral homes started sending us advertisements, all competing with each other to be the best, to win her business. To win our business, more like; six is hardly old enough to understand what's going on. It's not old enough to understand why everyone is covering their mouths with their hands and failing to hold back tears when you walk into the room, or old enough to understand why people begin to outright sob when you start talking about what you want to be when you grow up. Once it was a doctor, before that it was a fairy princess, but right now it's a policewoman.Chlowo
And of course all the children have heard about the funeral homes. Cold, nasty, make their business in knowing when people are going to die. Not how, as far as anyone can tell, just...when. A lot of kids have had relativesgreat-aunts, great-uncles, maybe great-grandparentsstart getting advertisements, maybe been shown them to know what to look out for, but not Anita. She