We Ate the Dark

by Mallory Pearson

Because she might be a body with no homeland but maybe this could be hers, the hazy pink skies, the tender blue mountains, the huge ash trees. She liked how impossibly lush it was in the summer, and how viciously dense it became in the winter. She thought the way the mountains held the valley town made the whole place feel a little more heavenly and loved. Maybe she liked to feel heavenly and loved.

I will have this moment, she thought, and it will hurt tomorrow—but at least it will be mine now.