she counts

the dead bodies outside her hotel room.

Her Killer

She watches her father beat up her mother. She feels guilt, relief, sorrow, delight. She turns to her brother who comes to stop the fight, to rescue their mother.

The emotion that wins is relief. That she is not the only witness and that she was true to herself in that she wanted to see their mother dead but at the same time but didn't have to do her daughterly duty of saving her mother from the hands of her killer.

The Beach

I am happy to be home. They show me a new room. It's made of glass and faces the beach. During high tide, when the big waves come, the water eats up the shore near the room. The tide slaps against the glass walls. It's so beautiful. My eyes trace the shore line and see people on the beach. A lot of them are surfing.

I bolt from the room and look for a bathing suit to change into.

"Where are you going? We're going to have dinner!"

I ignore them, find a bathing suit, and run to the beach.

I get pushed into a seat that flies away.

empty

i am holding the movie tickets in my hand. i try to get to the theater but all the stairs leading to that floor disconnect as soon as i set foot on them.

i keep climbing and the stairs keep disintegrating and the mall keeps getting bigger.

disoriented, frustrated, i make it to the theater. it's empty.

Bar of Soap

There's a roadblock on the way to the mall. I sneak pass it. Beyond the roadblock, beyond the mall, is a place I need to get to.

Inside the mall, no one will help me. I try to ask for directions but people push me aside. I fall. I lose my bags.

One girl says she'll help me. She will write down how to get to this place I need to get to. I have no paper. I reach for a big bar of soap.

"Write it here," I say.

She reaches for a knife and uses its point to engrave her first word.