Winter, 1965 Seemed like there was a river of blood. But since it was just her in the bathtub in the bathroom, the source had to be her alone. Maybe for the better. In the current of red it was harder to see whether everything had passed already. Her insides felt like something had to be making its way out. Hurt more than cramps but she supposed X had just said it wouldn’t hurt much to make her less afraid about a choice she ain’t really have. She already had two mouths to feed and her y[...]