Literature
Hanging On to Tomorrow ch10
The world was white. Amy watched from her cocoon of blankets, breathing slowly as she stared out the window and into an endless sky. Her eyes fluttered as she yawned, licking her lips and rubbing her face against the comforter to wipe the tears from her eyes. After a few minutes, a muffled phone alarm sounded out from under her pillow, and she shut it off. One hot shower later, Amy was in her car with a large thermos of coffee driving towards Never Lake. Amy didn’t watch the other people in their cars or listen to the radio. Instead, she focused on the heartbeat in the soft flesh behind her ears, the feeling of her eyes open just a bit too wide, and the way her teeth ached from how tightly she had clenched her jaw. It was just that this time of year always felt like the whole universe was just a bit too close. It seemed to shake, just a little, and in doing so, it shook her too. That wasn’t unusual, really, though Amy would have seemed crazy if she said that to anyone other