Glenwood
Some days, I thought about Weldon.
How the wind came hard off the lake, harsh enough to sting your eyes even under a clear sky. How the skyscrapers seemed to lean into it, glass and steel shouldering against the gusts.
I remember how the streets smelled faintly of diesel and fried food, how the trains clattered overhead like they were trying to shake the sky apart.
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About the Author
Hi, I’m Rita Quill. I write fiction about outsiders—people on the edge of adulthood, collapse, or reinvention. My stories orbit power, shame, love, ambition, and the mess between who you are and who you’re supposed to be. Subscribe for free to unlock weekly chapters delivered straight to your inbox or the Substack app.