Melanie [patched] | Ts Pandora

Melanie touched her face. Her left eye socket was smooth, hollow, sealed —like it had never held anything at all.

Melanie jumped. Her roommate stood in the kitchen doorway, barefoot, holding a mug of tea she hadn’t been drinking. Pandora had moved in three weeks ago, answering a sublet ad that Melanie didn’t remember posting. She was pretty in a sharp way—dark bob, gray eyes that never blinked enough—and she had a habit of knowing things before Melanie said them. ts pandora melanie

Everywhere you’re not.

Inside: nothing. Just black velvet and the smell of rain. Melanie touched her face