Breakfast

Finding herself in a quandary, the howling winds outside batter the windows of the apartment. Along with the rain, as it lashes down with no sign of relenting, it’s as if the night might explode like a firework. Now and again, it feels as though the walls are shaking apart and that the whole place will take off like in The Wizard of Oz. Ridiculous, she knows, because that was just a small wooden house, whereas this is a multistorey apartment complex—one as ugly and as big as a giant, concrete turd. Still, the thought persists, and the more she thinks about it, the more she believes a tornado is on its way to take her someplace far, far away from all that she loves and holds dear. If she can only make it to her room, then when she wakes in the morning, this will all have been a dream, and the only thing to fear will be her mother reciting from the bible as they eat their breakfast. As another gust of wind shakes the windows, a hideous whistling slips into the room and whips her limbs. It must be a draught worming its way through an open window or a crack somewhere in one of the outer walls, but in her mind, she pictures a shadowy entity, licking its lips at the thought of swallowing her whole. Everything wants to devour her, so it seems—to suck the marrow from her bones and the magic from her blood as if she were a piece of tasty southern fried chicken.

X and I: A Novel and A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon UK

X and I: A Novel and A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon US

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