Humidity clung to her skin,
warm and sticky. Her clammy hands
in her lap, knotted with anxiety.
Thin strands of hair stuck to
her brow. Like cracks in her face.
Fine wounds in an otherwise
perfect porcelain complexion.
Why are you so afraid? She mouthed
quietly to herself, wiping the sweat
from her forehead with the
cuff of her sleeve.
The angry, soft voice replied.
You are no more special today, child.
No more than yesterday.