I woke up that morning into a world of glass. Ice covered the trees, deciduous and conifer; it covered everything I could see through the thin, now glaze-encased window. Before the sun could throw shards of itself onto this new world, I hesitated, afraid my breath would break it all.

Rina Palumbo is working on a novel and two nonfiction long-form writing projects alongside short fiction, creative nonfiction, and prose poetry. Her work appears in The Hopkins Review, Ghost Parachute, Milk Candy, Bending Genres, Anti-Heroin Chic, Identity Theory, Stonecoast Review, et al.