Gloryhole Xia [2027]

Xia’s hand trembled. She pulled the pen back. It was now engraved with two words: You’re enough.

The hole hummed back. Then, a new story flowed out: gloryhole xia

She thought. Then, hesitantly, she pushed a memory into the brass plate: Age seven, hiding under her grandmother’s kitchen table during a thunderstorm, licking sugar from a broken cookie. The rain smelled like wet iron. Her grandmother hummed a song about a fox marrying a hen. Xia’s hand trembled