Proof of Life
by T.L. Murphy
In her story, there were no heroes and no one died. The sky stayed in the sky.
The hunter slept in. The witch forgot the spell. Even the wolf decided not to show.
It was just an ordinary day.
She found herself alone – looking at her skin, the skin that would be the same skin when she grew old.
This was not the story she had meant to tell. But when asked about truth she had no choice.
She hiked up her skirt and showed us, squeezing her knee into a pink wrinkle.
“See”, she said, “there it is.”