I was chasing someone. My shirt flapped loose below my ribcage, black and hollow. I could feel the wind blow through the inside of me, where I used to be. I was cold, and angry. I ground my teeth like I was trying to light a fire with the sparks.

“theif, thief, thief, thief, thief…”

I never saw him. I did not know him. He was always just ahead in a city that looked green and familiar, but was not my own. The streets were slick with a rain which had passed I stepped in a puddle as I ran, and it soaked through my boots. I was cold inside. Part of me had been taken by a stranger, and I meant to have it back.

“Thief, thief, thief, thief, thief…”

Down some stairs and to a door- either pistachio or pine or some other unpleasant shade of green. There was a number I could not read. He was on the other side of the door. I couldn’t touch it. I could not knock, I could not smash it down. I could only stand there and shake, and hiss through my teeth…

“Thief, thief, thief, thief, thief…”