What It Felt Like 
by Pteropod
155 Words of Scully

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Her world is expanding and contracting and skidding sideways and in
three months time she'll make crayon rubbings, kindergarten all over
again except this time in Africa and what she learns will tilt her
like maple leaf impressions never did.  She'll swat at bugs with a
machete and bloody her toes in the ocean, and when the sky bubbles
with ghosts she'll fall through the door of apartment 42 and land
upright in the arms of a man wearing a baseball cap and a bandage on
his head.  

She'll hate his mother for selling him out and his father for not
being there to stop it, and she'll hate herself for wearing out her
knees with an old Navajo instead of pounding the pavement like a good
cop.  She'll roll the world in her fingertips and fall asleep in her
front hallway, and when she wakes up she'll leave the house without
brushing her teeth.  

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