Short Story Competition Winner
by Laekan Kemp
It’s dark. A car passes by, the first one in hours. It throws light against the truck and slides it between the steel hinges and the door. In that second it highlights my crouching frame and reflects the shadows of the crate’s bars against my skin. I feel a faint wave of air brush my ankle, someone fanning out their skirt. There’s a soft knocking towards the mouth of the truck like fingernails tapping against one of the metal walls. I feel the heat of moist eyes against my cheekbone and I pair them with a stifled panting coming from the crate facing mine. I hold my breath and listen to the other bodies in the truck, absorbing the cold, the quiet.
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