Photo by henry perks on Unsplash

The Girl in the Hole

The ivy creeps through the window to get a closer look at me. Each time it intrudes on my territory I rip the stems apart, scattering the leaves on the stone floor and lighting them on fire, hoping the flames will grow tall and engulf my quiet alcove. But the damp stone never provides the fire any purchase and it lives for only a moment before sputtering out.