‘I think,’ the cockroach started, rolling the words in his mouth as he developed the sentence. ‘You think?’ The butterfly urged. ‘I think, that people are scared of me because I don’t look like how they’d wish me to look.’ The cockroach finished. ‘I think they’re scared of you because you can survive a nuclear

Contains references to drug abuse and death.    She stood in the corner of the small café. She didn’t want to sit down. No. If she sat, she’d fidget. If she sat, maybe it’d make it obvious what she was feeling. She let her small fingers curl around the coffee cup, and she’d take tentative