Celeste
I go to work the following morning, feeling odd in knowing that it is going to be my last day and no one knows except for myself and Matthew. Tomorrow night, after he has burned the highlands, he is going to mark me and we are going to run away together. I am an imposter showing up for my shift—a completely different person from who I was twelve hours ago. I hardly recognize myself from a few weeks ago. I have hope, I have something to look forward to. I don't have a plan but that makes it all the more exhilarating. Adhering to a plan, in a society that changes plans according to its whims, is all but impossible; there is something less stressful about going with the flow, whether that flow be rapid or slow.
It's a sunnier morning than yesterday but the sky isn't spotless. Fluff
