I hurt. My arms are noodles. My legs are noodles. Great, now I want noodles. Wrapped up in trying to ignore the ache that’d infused every inch of my body, my sudden craving for noodles, and the fact the tote wouldn’t unwedge itself from the van, I didn’t notice anyone. Not until I turned in a frustrated huff and ran into a wall. Since I was in the road, it seemed like an odd place for someone to suddenly build a wall. Unless a cartoon coyote built it to trick a roadrunner, of course. Not to mention, walls didn’t have arms that tried to reach out and steady me before I dodged them. They also
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