A Study in Drowning

by Ava Reid

Even the elevator had seemed exhausted by the time it reached the landing, groaning and heaving and giving a rattle that sounded like small bones being shaken inside a collector’s box.

I hate these.

When men fall into the sea, they drown. When women meet the water, they transform. It becomes vital to ask: is this a metamorphosis, or a homecoming?

Men liked to keep mad women locked up where everyone could comfortably forget they ever existed.