III: Prose by Arielle Tipa
(Gif from The Company of Wolves) III I walk as if the world has robbed me of a favor. It's getting late and I head into the woods where there are bears. Bears smell blood and so I turn myself into a boy. I succeed in laying my head on my lap and I realize I was born on a Tuesday which means I will die on a Tuesday. There are MISSING posters taped to trees for children who look like their pets. Slowly, I remove one with the picture of a girl who looks like a dog I used to own.