on my hands, replaying all the movie scenes in my life where people always had a sharp shard of glass nearby to cut themselves loose. I can’t feel anything sharp within reach, but if I could just get myself free then maybe I could rush her husband as soon as he comes in and the woman couldn’t possibly be blamed for that.

            In reality, I understand that the likelihood of my being able to ‘rush’ anyone in my current state, with my head throbbing and my stomach roiling, is pretty unlikely, but it’s the best plan I’ve got. Every fiber of my being is screaming that I can’t let them take me to the fort. I can’t even think about what will happen there. Better to pretend it’s not even a possibility than to go there.

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