Further filings
The Page
★★★★★
Thinner river. Same hands. You wring a life until it looks like literature. You drown the doll so the field will feed you. You call the wet stack a manuscript. You do not look back because if you look back she is still in it, swimming, and then you would have to publish her instead of the weather.
A later river. Same hands. The village discovered that straw was not the only thing that would float if you wrung it hard enough. You dress a life. You walk it past the houses. You burn what you cannot look at. You throw the rest where it cannot answer. In the morning the field works and you call the wet stack a book.
Professionally, the Page would prefer you did not look back. If you look back she is still in the manuscript, swimming, and then the site has to publish a girl instead of a climate. The Page is not cruel. The Page is trying to keep its job.
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