You hear the creak of the metal gate behind you, the echoing clang as it closes, but you don’t look back. The Things have caught up to us, left us drawing erratic breath under a stormy sky, standing at the edge of somewhere we don’t quite recognize.

The dunes. The distinctive smell hits us first, its sharpness invoking the spiky dune grass. We walk between clumps, each point penetrating our jeans, the skin on the back of our hands, demanding attention.


The Cake

She turned the envelope over in her hands. She had waited so long for this letter, but now she wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to open it. There wasn’t much of a letter but to Katie’s delight the recipe was stapled to it — creased, slightly greasy, but written out in a clear,…