From 4797acc530b3f9acfd6bdecd0b31ac5f9ce8663d Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Wed, 6 Oct 2021 16:50:49 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/dont-look-up.md | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/writing/dont-look-up.md b/writing/dont-look-up.md index 28b1bcf3..70f048a1 100644 --- a/writing/dont-look-up.md +++ b/writing/dont-look-up.md @@ -59,7 +59,7 @@ I watched as her path took one switchback, then another, through the air and the I have inherited her curse. I have died so that she may live, and even as I stomp and stamp along the trail, the evidence rolls out before me like some red carpet from some thinner reality. I don't know how long I've been walking, I don't know how long *she* had been walking, but I know that this is mine to bear until it isn't, until some poor fool looks up in the air and sees me, however far above, or that very air thins to nothing and I gasp and struggle for breath and burn up in the heat of the sun even as I freeze to death, there in the rarefied air. -I am a ghost. That is evidence. I am a ghost because I ignored the admonition and looked up to the heavens and saw a lonely ghost in turn, and even as she stepped down to earth and breathed the breath of life, my own breath was taken from me. +I am a ghost. That is evidence of my error. I am a ghost because I ignored the admonition and looked up to the heavens and saw a lonely ghost in turn, and even as she stepped down to earth and breathed the breath of life, my own breath was taken from me. I am haunting these trails, these woods. That, too, is evidence. I am the fox who walks and walks and walks. I am the fox whose hissed breaths between clenched teeth carry curses and pleas both.