Where No Shadow Stays

“The last four years we have spent at Canyon High have set the foundation for who we will become,” I read. Jesse watches me pace from his perch on the train’s platform, idly playing with the zipper on his jacket.

“Too passive,” he calls out. “Also, corny.”

I stop. Scowl, rereading the introduction. I pull the pen out of my hairband and make a note to rephrase.

The wind howls between the six abandoned shipping containers on the train tracks. The train holding them lies in front of a long row of warehouses, most of which have been empty since Ward’s economic collapse in the eighties.