Today's OneWord: Handle

Handle
by Belinda Roddie

Sarah makes a move for the car door. She pulls the handle, and it comes off right between her fingers. Like a dislocated bone, it dangles from her. And the car won't open. Come to think of it, it doesn't even look like a car anymore. It looks like a decaying predator. Something that fossilized far too soon. Something that dared to live when everything in the world demanded that it die.

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