Maggie’s Visit to the Cabin
The tape is the first thing she knows. Not the cabin, not the storm, not the cold floor under her
The tape is the first thing she knows. Not the cabin, not the storm, not the cold floor under her
Story The rope is the first thing I know. Not the room, not the dark, just the rope biting into
Story The rough hemp bit into her wrists as she twisted her hands behind her back, searching for any give
STORY I am sitting upright on a thin fiberglass bench inside what they call a prison RV, though the space
Story The light never turns off. That’s the cruelest part, I think, worse even than the chains. It hums above
Story I pull against the cuffs and the chain above me rattles against the ceiling fixture. My arms are stretched
Story I knew this was going to be miserable. I told myself that the whole walk up the stairs, the
Story The rope bit into my wrists every time I shifted, but I didn’t mind it yet. I could feel
I couldn’t save myself. It’s July 4. Enjoy! Ashley’s eyes opened to the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym ceiling
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