No idea how long I’ve been stuck in this goddamned well. Days at least. My fingers are prune-y, like I’ve been in the bathtub for too long. Not that I can see my fingers. But I can feel them, the soft wrinkled ridges. They feel gross.
I don’t like it down here. I could scream, but I just finished an hour of screaming about ten minutes ago.
My throat hurts.
And I’m hungry. I keep thinking about oranges. Not the kind that are all dried out and splintery when you unpeel them, but big, juicy ones. Navel oranges.
And burritos.
***
Title by: virgo
Story by: Jenny
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