Chapter Twenty Three
Dawn. Somewhere, a cockerel was heralding the first rays of light. Out there in the sane world, people would be waking up to their clock radios, soon to be taking hot showers, eating breakfast, and then commuting to work or school.
Tyra however, remained locked in the pillory, her back now numb, her whole body, aching and cold, unable to do anything except turn her head, clench her fingers, and shift the position of her feet on the wet grass.
Tyra hadn’t felt so desolate since that terrible night in the garbage dump. She had considered making a nuisance of herself, calling out for the rest of the night until somebody was forced to come, but all she had managed was a dry croak, which she could only imagine had been induced by her ingestion of the leaves. That wasn’t
