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She told her a different lie, one that couldn’t possibly be true. Moree.
The darling little ghost girl with the name that meant water or
spring… Olivia couldn’t breathe. The air that was supposed to enter
her lungs did not come. She reached for the seat behind her and
collapsed in a dull heap. No, no, no, no, no. This type of thing doesn’t
happen in real life, it doesn’t happen to people she knew.
But not to worry, this isn’t the first time this has happened and it
certainly won’t be the last. Chin up, Olivia, don’t cry; you don’t have
anything to cry about. You have a class to teach.
A keening, shivering moan built its way from deep within her chest.
In her roomOlivia curled into a ball under the gritty sleeping bag,
probed her heart and felt the burns. Turning her face on the thick
pillow she watched the sun set on the horizon, casting her room in a
brilliant orange hue. In the thick bands of light that filtered through
her window she could see dust motes rotating, suspended like tiny
planets. She watched them dance across the room until they
eventually settled on the book resting upon her bedside table. She
continued watching even after the night sky had stolen all remnants
of light.
Softly, as she felt herself drift into a languid darkness, a dry,
scorching air devoured her body and soul.
‘
Of Dust And
Dirt And Other
Godly Beings
12