It was too dark to see.
The air, thick and humid.
A familiar sound she couldn’t place, but mangled, distorted and oppressive, like a constant exhale, warm fetid air blowing against her cheeks.
Something was wrapped around her head, and she could barely move. She was somewhere between sleep and dreaming.
There was a pressure in her arm, something pressed in…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Westville to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.