It had been made clear to her: Because she was a girl it was not okay to enjoy girly things. She didn’t want to betray her gender, so she took a job as an assassin. It allowed her to dress up provided she pretended to hate it. The friction between facade and true self stoked a burning resentment which she channeled into white-hot dagger-points of vicarious retribution.
On holiday, she daydreamed about another time when she could’ve happily managed a greeting card store. But pining was for Mar...
Published on August 14, 2017 05:00