Where I End

by Sophie White

‘At the beginning, I thought bringing her out to be among them was too dangerous for her. But now it’s too dangerous for us.’ Móraí never explains a thing.

(Hope, I’ve come to learn, can be a noose. When we hope, we willingly, blithely, put our heads in a sadistic coil and wait to be hanged. I hoped for things when I was younger—pathetic things—and was always left swinging.)