For a short time after the rape, I found I could move things. Energy birds swarmed from my brain. With a witch's sense of abandoned physics, I set dolls rolling. Back and forth. Like a breathing sound. Using only my night-powered eyes, I pushed the lamp to the dresser's edge. I buried the mirrors in avalanches of freshly laundered underpants. I never slept. I did all these things lying down.
From One Red Eye by Kirsten Dierking. Copyright © 2001 by Kirsten Dierking. Used by permission of Holy Cow! Press. All rights reserved.