u s e y o u r h a n d s

“Fresh mountain air,” puffed Felicia as she stomped up the hill. “That’s what I need.”

She spat and sputtered, then collapsed on a stump trailside. Felicia thrust her pack to the ground and stretched out.

“This feels exactly like a cigarette ad,” she thought, and then reached for her Kools.

Trina always wondered what it would be like to murder something. She started to volunteer at a cat shelter. Trina loved to pet the kittens and feel their little hearts beat under her hand. When she was sure she wouldn’t be caught, Trina would hide in a closet, with the light off, and a kitten in her hand. But she could never quite do it. Because even in the mostly dark, she could still see the glimmer in the kitten’s eyes.