A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers Read Free Page A

it pass, money evaporating into the void, meaningless.
    Somewhere in the southwest, Melanie is walking out of the house, or is about to, her heart roaring with wildfire, lonely, alone. The sparks dance purple in her hands, lightning like veins through her arms.
    You can’t fix this. It was never yours to control.
    But my hands fumble over the touch screen, thumbs sliding wet over her face on the contact screen. She’s programmed in the same stupid anime ringtone I have on my phone, and it jingles inanely, all synthetic voices and pre-ordained sound.
    I wait, mouth dry, my body shaking like the sky above the Mojave before it rains. Painted in brilliant, feverish strokes in my head, the daisy chain grows.

 
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    Copyright © 2016 by Alyssa Wong
    Art copyright © 2016 by Rovina Cai