Flash Fiction: Every Other Inch
By Lana Nauphal
The grass is thick at my feet, luscious and clean. I remove my shoes then my socks and feel the blades run through my toes. Two friends are huddled together, sharing laughter; I smile at their company. Mother Nature feels present, in the fullness below me and the humanity on my left. I take a deep breath, but feel stifled—the smog is creeping in. Looming on the horizon, it engulfs the buildings; soon it will engulf us—we who seek repose under industrial refuge. But where else is there to go? We’ve already encroached on every other inch.
