Thousand: Six Hundred Thirteen

hair? She trains the tiny circle of light from the penlight directly on the wavering black line. “If there were really any chance, you know, I’d be okay with not winning, you know. If people who really deserved it won sometimes. That would be something, at least. Then you could be happy for them.” The girl hooks the leg of a wheeled stool and slides it alongside. Without taking her eyes from the strand, the girl climbs onto the padded seat and slowly, watching her balance, stands, reaches her left hand out for the black hair which is wobbling in