the smuggler’s bible

Olgica

Everything is all right.

And then, for no reason except the whim of the gods, an enormous weight descends from a cloudless blue sky and settles squarely onto Olgica’s shoulders.

“Ouch,” she says. Her first instinct is to remain perfectly flat, but she decides that actually she has quite a lot to accomplish, so she drags herself up over the rim of the crater and onto the sidewalk.

A passerby stops for a moment. “Need help?”

“I’m fine,” Olgica says, bracing herself against a steel trash can for leverage. “If they wanted me dead, they’d have confronted me with self-awareness.”