Jayla Dreams of Ghosts
Jayla dreams of a toxic city sunset, pale pink and streaked with industrial smoke. Her visions come swift as a late August breeze, the taste of iced tea on her tongue after roughing out another night without air conditioning. The sun opened its great big mouth wide enough to stretch all the way around and swallow itself whole as the sunset turns into dusk, an ominous purple aura swallowing the summer sky that hovered over a lone Chuck-E-Cheese's.




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