Pain

This wasn't what she wanted. But, oh, how it wanted her! Pulling, yearning for attention inside her body, as if that body wasn't hers, any more.
Callused fingers held the pen that wrote down thoughts, spiralling into a house, like a snail shell, where she could rest, until a chance for healing sprouts.
Each time it showed, like an adolescent guillemot from Heligoland's steep, red rocks, she'd take that leap of faith.