Aurora 2025 with cover

Kay Shae

Up is the only way to get across it. The disastrous building stares down menacingly, its

shattered boards like teeth awaiting its next victim. Braving the climb, she steps onto a stone, unable to tell where it originated in the building. She can now feel the bruises forming over her body and the stings of cuts on her arms. She works through the pain ‘till she is almost to the top of the pile; looking down, she can see how far she has traveled. Bright red stains litter the ground as her wound oozes blood. Muscles sting as she forces her feet to push herself over the mound to the other side. The momentum of the climb shifts the wreckage, sending her tumbling down the side of the debris, crashing into the pavers and gravel. The impact on the stones and broken wood causes her to lose consciousness. Ash falls onto her, covering her like a blanket and sticking to her wounds like a makeshift bandage. Too much time has passed as she starts to stir; the pain radiating from her injuries is enough of a wake-up call to tell her she has fucked up badly. “DAMN IT!” She cries out loud, tears flowing down her face, unsure if she can move. Ashy blood sticks tight to her forehead, matting her hair and gravel to her face in thick clumps. Brushing the mess slowly from her eyes, pain radiates up her arm. You didn’t break your arm. Slowly, she tries to wiggle her toes and feels the slight movement of her feet in her tabi. Good. You hurt, but you can move. Now get up. She tries to roll over to her side. She was ignoring the searing pain shooting through her like hot wires. Clenching her teeth, she sharply inhales as silent tears slide down her face as she struggles to roll over to try to get her feet under her and stand. Her legs burn with the pain as she bears her weight on them again. Her first steps are wobbly like a foal, new to the world. Struggling, she takes another step, determined to leave this city and find the

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