9am, another one of those mornings.

Fey slid out of bed, her silky nightgown clinging feebly to the sheets as though in protest. Goddamn alarm clock didnt go off again. Well, thatd be the last time shed miss work- that she had been guaranteed. Nowadays nothing was secure in her life. Boyfriend broke and angry, job teeter-tottering on the edge of dropping her into a chasm of helplessnesseven her mother had lost stability in her old age, with her memory on the verge of slipping into that same hole-in-the-ground Fey could never seem to leave behind. And if her mother were to need help, the both of them would surelyI am a strong woman. I will keep going. I will not collapse. The mantra, in all its repetitions, still managed to let a gratefully received numbness wash over its silent chanter. Fey shook out her hair over her back, the contrast of inky-black and paleness shocking in the mirror. Flawless, except for that mole on her chin. Flawless, except for the purple hellscar at her side. will not collapse Perhaps it came from a klutzy mistake. Fey, after all, was terribly clumsy, yet another reason why many a job never worked out. She pulled a pair of jeans over her legs, long and smooth, and finished her make-up. Fake it. Thats what her mother would say. The world was not Feys domain, and it was Feys job to keep her raincloud of affairs away from the innocent bystanders. The day was bright, opportunities were great, and now there was nothing to hinder her happiness. Josh will be mad.

Josh would be mad either way. Josh was always angry, now, for reasons she couldnt understand. It could be his quitting cigarettes. Nicotine withdrawal was rough- she knew that firsthand. It must have been the cigarettes, and those pains would leave easily with time. The sunlight outside was blinding as Fey stepped out of the house. Pigeons fluttered by and by, taking their flight as she passed by nonchalantly. Unemployment benefits, maybe she could get those again, live off those. You could get enough money to get groceries, maybe pay rent, too. Josh would help if she couldnt manage. He always got some money here and there. I will keep going. Life was a by and by thing. You couldnt hope for anything and expect it, nor could you expect yesterday to come again, no matter how good or bad. Life was a contract, and no matter where you were, the rules of the game were the same. Just like that gambling article she read, explaining that no matter how many times you played, the odds were the same, so even if they were one out of only eight thousand, playing eight thousand times still did not guarantee a win. She looked down at her pocket as a familiar vibration trembled at her thigh. One new message, sure enoughwant to see you. meet @ cafe? Her heart fluttered. The caf on 51st Street, he meant. Shed meet him there, for sure- she had nowhere better to be, and it had been a long time since hed asked to share a meal. Hed been quitting a long time- perhaps he was finally beginning to go back to his old self? She plunged her hands back into her jackets pockets with

great satisfaction, feeling hardened crumbs at the bottoms, which she always picked at- despite this, the food seemed to be latched like ticks. sure. see u there @ 1 First Citizens was a must, though, since she needed a bottle of shampoo, and knew Josh would never remember to pick it up. She walked through the dual sets of doors, always admiring of the exterior ones that looked like gold bars had been plastered on. Losing her job could be a blessing- she could move in with Josh. Hed ask her. He was going to ask her soon regardless. And shed seen him while they window-shopped, the way his eyes looked at every ring embellished with a diamond, deathly critical of every embedded stone. He was interested in far more than moving in, but one step at a time, after all. She pondered over the idea with pleasure as she spoke with the banker, withdrew, and turned around to look up at the news with mild curiosity. And then, her heart gave a different kind of flutter as she looked up at the television screen. Stocksstocksstockscrashingstocks crashing She didnt even glance at the specifics as she turned on heel and sped out the door, horrified. Her last hope for financial aid, gone. The few names that had flitted by on the screen were so big, yet now, so much smaller. The gold companies she invested would have sunk with the rest, she was sure. She was beyond broke- her student loan was never going to get paid, the rent for the month was hopelessone more batch of groceries. That was all she could afford. Josh will help us- me- through this. I will keep going.

Fey curved over the side of the street, arching like a swan as she retched, tasting each drop of half-disintegrated food as it passed her tongue the second time. Nerves? Perhaps. She hadnt felt particularly good that day since that moment when she spotted the time and felt icy hands grip her stomach. Fine the night beforehad to be nerves. Fey wasnt a delicate person; nonetheless, after watching the stocks crash and her job go down the drain, any person would be anxious enough to puke. I will keep going. She raked back her thin, dirty-blonde hair with wiped fingertips, flashing dark red nails as she pondered last nights news. For some reason or other, her mind seemed to travel back to a program not from last night, but from three weeks before, talking about antibodies. The effectiveness of the vaccine is reduced as the bacteria build up an immunity to the medicine, creating super-viruses that require stronger medicines, which in turn create deadlier viruses She glanced nonchalantly at her wrist- eleven forty-five. She was making decent time for the distance she was covering, so she strode without worry towards the bus stop, not even consciously deciphering her actions as she walked. It wasnt long before her gleaming white, fume cloaked carriage arrived, as she absentmindedly paid the few-toothed coach driver and took her seat. Her eyes rested upon a woman with her child nestled in the curves of her arm, head buried under clothes in such a manner that Fey felt a strong pang of maternal compassion from a place in her heart she didnt know existed. It was a

crude action to take place in public, and she could feel the beginnings of her typical smirk at such uncivilized affairs in such a cramped, shared space. Yet it could not fill her face with disgust or her mind with amusement. She held in another vomit as she looked back down at her lap politely, without much interest in the mellow events left of the windows she stared blankly from. And then a thought occurred to her, so clear-cut yet disastrous that she couldnt bear to think any more of it. Within forty minutes she had stepped through the transparent doors onto the curb, still only half aware of her actions as she resumed her earlier pace, lost in thought, not at 51st Street but at Tillary Street, far off in Brooklyn, nearly part of the downtown area. Objective swapped in her mind, she set off with a new goal in mind, spotting strands of cable that looked as though a monstrous recluse had spun silver across the river. And so, as she did, Fey wandered until she came to the banks of those waters, and the base of the steel-webbed domain of whatever beast could have spun the Brooklyn Bridge. Gazing out upon the restless waters, she too meandered in her restless way until reaching the high arch of the bridge, pacing amongst the iron, climbing the grey-spun railings that were not quite as sticky as that of a spider, and dangerously so. Panicked honks lit the white noise around her, dappling the empty sound with sparks of sharp tones. The water was beautiful, it was, liquid sapphire streaming below her, the rains of as many years as shed ever known.this was as close to infinity as she

could get. Her entire body craned over the side, not clumsy but still in a perfect swan arch as her toffee-colored hair blew behind her. She glanced behind her at a stumble, fixing her eyes on a young, sturdily-built man, who stopped dead as she looked at him. Listenyoudont have to jump. His eyes were huge with fear. She looked at them for a moment more before stepping closer to the edge. The police are on the way. She glanced back at him, feeling the beginnings of the smirk that refused to come before. Her fingers crept over her belly, smoothing it over with dark certainty as she swallowed the urge to vomit. This is no place for a child. She spread her arms out, extending her fingers to motion to the skies around them. Why? he pressed as she turned back around. I can help you! Maam, another thinner man, dressed in a dashing suit, stepped behind the other. What seems to be the problem, finances? I can take care of that, recover whatever youve lost. We could lend Fey let his words slide slickly past her ears as a curious idea filled her mind, reaching the edge, nothing separating her from the water but a thin bar of steel. To see a flower in winter, an owl in the day- neither was regarded as a good sight, for fear that flowers would die, and owls were sickened. The dull, deathly course of nature was valued over beauty out of the ordinary. I will keep going, she said, and took a step.