Wanderer

The Scar lived up to its name. For three days, she climbed a staircase of shattered slate, the sun a hammer on her back. On the fourth day, she found the door.

She opened her eyes, smiled gently at her mother’s ghost, and said, “I’m not home.” Wanderer

She finished her water, stood up, and tightened her pack straps. The Scar lived up to its name

On the other side was her mother’s garden. smiled gently at her mother’s ghost