As in:
While in seventh grade nothing had been more terrifying to Angela than the microscope, especially the big stereoscopic one that could amplify the shape of a paramecium to something that seemed like it could devour fish, or swimmers. It was enough, already, to know that what you could see, could hurt you, either with force, or with words. But now this unseen universe of microbes, lurking in droplets of water, and God knows what else.
Pondering this at lunch one day, she stared at the bologna sandwich she’d removed from her zip-locked bag, and decided she couldn’t eat it.
“You done with that?” Trevor the tall one asked her.
“Forever,” she said. “Help yourself.”
No comments yet.