“I’m broken,” she said.
“What have you broken?” I asked.
“Me. All of me. I am broken. I have broken every part of me.” I looked at her. She seemed fairly structurally sound to me. Maybe a slight bow about the knees and a lop-sided edge to the smile. But otherwise, all was as it should have been. I returned my gaze to her face and put on my best puzzled expression.
She stamped her foot and huffed and puffed. I still could not see the flaws. She thrust a hand into her mouth and pushed a pair of digits towards her throat. [continue]
