I cannot breathe. Sweat sprouts at my hairline and on my top lip. I fan hot air into my face, pressing my lips tight against a scream scraping the inside of my throat. The sun is too bright and the sky isn’t wide enough, the clouds seeming to drop and loom over me. I need to run, but I can’t escape my own body. I’m tethered to this flesh and bone, and these ticking-time-bomb ovaries.
