MY SAVING DOOM
The mark burning on my skin like it was mocking me.
Normal. I wanted normal. Ordinary Nanya: broke, late to work, hated by her boss, surviving one latte at a time. That’s all I was. That’s all I wanted to be.
But deep down, I knew better.
Normal ended last night.
And no matter how much I denied it, the mark on my wrist was proof.
I wiped down the counter, forced a smile for the next customer, and whispered to myself, “This is fine. Everything’s fine. Totally fine.”
Bab Populer