by Steppen Sawicki

The blog hiatus was a lie.  All I did was play Breath of the Wild.

Drabble: ?

She noticed something on her arm, and looked closer.  A scratch.  She didn’t recall how she got it.

Her best friend had always told her that such mysterious injuries were echoes of the past, of harm experienced in a previous life.

It wasn’t the first scratch she had gotten on her arm.  About once or twice a week she would find a mark on her forearm, long and straight and stinging sharply.

Just in case her friend was right, every time she found a new scratch she always directed a thought into the past, into her self.

I feel you.