Lobizona (Wolves of No World, #1)

by Romina Garber

Man-made borders shouldn’t matter more than people.

Everything’s changed, and yet I’m the same. Still a spare card that doesn’t fit any grouping. Still unwanted.

“When someone deviates from an accepted norm, they signal a gap in the system. A hole that hasn’t been plugged. The danger with exposing a foundation’s failings is it opens the door to the possibility that it’s a faulty structure altogether and should be torn down and built anew.”

Go forth and shatter every convention.

I didn’t feel like I was pretending to be anyone else.” The impact of the statement hits me as I say it.

“Plant your new garden with the seeds of equality, water it with tolerance and empathy, and warm it with the temperate heat of truth.”

If there’s no word in any known vocabulary to encapsulate me, that just means language can’t define me. A label can’t hold me. I’m beyond classification. I’m an original. I’m— “Undocumented.”