The Conditions of Will

by Jessa Hastings

I think there’s something romantic and poetic about how the light creeps up on the darkness that’s buried the horizon and blasts it away all gentle and blushy pink.

“Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” I stare up at the big arch, which is my favorite part, I think. “Even though it’s broken?” “Yep,” he says quietly, and he’s looking just at me.