Cold. Dusk. The autumn leaves floating to the ground.

Walking for miles searching for someone, anyone.

Has it been days since the beginning of my trek? Or mere hours? Minutes?

I know I had to go, for fear of being found.

It’s funny. Wandering down an isolated wood hoping to be found, when that is precisely the reason I fled in the first place.

The wind is beginning to shift. If just someone w...

Edna. A name. My name. A name that would someday be known. Praised with victorious flare. Or spat upon with the utmost distain. Only one of those will be the outcome. The latter preferred.

Selma and I were to meet this evening. At the lamppost by the river. Before sunset so as not to cause suspicion.

It’s getting dusky. Being allowed past dark is not permitted; for anyone of the female gender.

S...