Bloom
Claudia Lundahl
It has been three years.
She knows she is not dying.
She is freeing herself from the confines of being human, from dragging around the weight of this burdensome skeletal mess.
The first time it happened, she was fourteen years old. Afterward, she stood in front of the mirror, unclothed, staring at herself. She was in the small bathroom on the top floor of her parents’ house, the …
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