excerpt:
She knew to expect Kierk’s homegrown MDMA analog to hit like a blissy staticky tsunami. She knew to expect Mona’s band—formerly the Noctambulists, now Gristleswing—to pack the dancefloor into an electric sea of skin and sweat. She knew to expect the long rambling goodbye pep-talk from Vawn on the rooftop and the frantic-turned-tender goodbye sex with Ilya at hers.
She did not expect to stumble home and find a corpse on her doorstep.
➜ a short story about a dystopian future, a murder investigation, community, and someone who's trying to leave the only home she's ever known
➜ the information reveals over the course of the story are handled so well
➜ and the narrative tone of...hm. of inevitability? of sadness. of people trying their best to hold the line against the constant pressure of external forces. idk it's real good.
➜ written for a Stop Copaganda short story contest!
➜ 4.7k words
