Noa and Mother folded into each other and wept like charcoal silhouettes against a bleak world, before Noa left for the place where the sea meets the sky.
I once expressed an interest in fanfiction about the television show Succession and she looked at me with infinite pity in her eyes and said “I think we’re just very different people.”
She pummels ground with heel and wall with head and breathes tilting mouth pants and, forehead on floor, slobs saliva down cheeks and coughs wet hurt noises.