• Swerve off the road and into the turning lane. The car’s brakes screech. Find a spot and shakily shift into park.
  • Light a cigarette, a Seneca. A shit brand that you bought a carton of from a girl named Mary. Feel the smooth click of the lighter, purple and covered in sparkly nail polish.
Read more ““How to Survive a Panic Attack: Parking Lot” by Lillianna Kiel”