The Flattened Forest

I squeezed into the warm, stolen skin and walked among the upright beasts. I learned to mimic their smoke-breathing and tapped false greetings on their glowing bricks. Then, I watched the man with the glass circles over his eyes hand the girl a slice of a **flattened white forest**. It was the sharpest weapon I had ever seen—no scent of blood, yet capable of severing a future. The girl smiled and left **black claw marks** upon it, believing it was a key to a nest. Soon, the girl ceased to walk upright. She broke her knees on the concrete, exposing her starving belly to strangers. The man stood high above, sipping the red plasma squeezed from her marrow—they call it 'wine'. I felt sick. In my pack, we bite throats only to survive. Here, they eat an entire life with a smile and a piece of the white forest. I checked the mirror. My pupils were still vertical slits. A mercy. It meant I could never truly be one of them. I peeled off the skin, threw it in the dumpster, and ran on all fours toward the mountains.