Riptide
“She was moving as well, no, she was flying, then she hit hard and the pain ripped through her. She lay on her side, smelling the hot tar of the street, a light overlay of urine, hot and sour, whiffs of food, of too many bodies, feeling the unforgiving cement beneath her. Cement?People were yelling, coming closer now, and there were men and women shouting, “Stay back! Let us through!”She tried to open her eyes, but her muscles were too weak, wouldn’t obey her, and the pain was boiling up inside ...her. She was so very tired, nearly blown under with it. Then she felt a hideously sharp stab of pain somewhere in her body, fierce, unrelenting, and she knew tears were leaking out of her eyes.“Miss! Can you hear me?”She felt his hand on her shoulder, felt the sun beating down on her, hot on her bare skin—what bare skin? Her legs were bare, that was it. But he was over her, a shadow blocking the sun.“Miss? Can you hear me? Are you conscious?”She opened her eyes then because he sounded so very afraid.MoreLess
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