from A.S.

  She clenches her fist and the chain snaps. The stones scatter on the ground.

  A dozen blue eyes stare up at us from the muck.

  I hear something in my throat.

  'I'm sorry,' she says.

  She doesn't move. I gather the stones myself. I can't bear to look at her. 'Why did you come?' I say. 'What's the point of you being here?'

  'You're right,' she says. 'This is all a mistake. It should never have happened.'

  I put the stones in my pocket. She can do what she likes with the chain. 'All I wanted was to talk to you,' I say. 'Is that what you're afraid of?'

  'Don't speak to me like this,' she says.

  The mist is getting thicker. It confines us. It is inside us, making it hard to breathe. Our voices. We sound like people who are drowning.