TW: blood, death

i didn’t want to watch
it die
but i did
it fell off
the
window
pretty pink puddle
of guts
it lay twitching
on the pavement
for
a moment too long
and i
shoveled its remains
its white fur
into
a nylon school bag once
carried to
a third-grade classroom
then
my hands were sticky
(not with blood)
an improvised grave
twisted rabbit’s foot
lurking
somewhere in the dirt.

Julia Tolda (she/her) is a junior, pursuing a double major in Comparative Literature and psychology at Barnard College. Her favorite flowers are peonies, and if she could give you the moon, she would.