She still wakes up some nights in cold sweats with a scream rising like bile in her throat, waiting to fling itself out into the world. Sometimes she’s awake enough to hold it back and sometimes she can even fall asleep again. Sometimes, she can’t. ~excerpt from short story
The Tuxedo Archives: Vol. 2011
, Article 16.
Available at: http://scholar.dominican.edu/tuxedolit/vol2011/iss1/16