Digging Boise by Nathaniel Hoffman

I don't think Petra remembered her placenta, but she seemed to like its shallow grave among the sagebrush.
She stood on the mound of fresh dirt, looking east toward the rising sun, a faint smile creeping into the corners of her little mouth. "Is the rest of my childhood going to be this weird?" the smile hinted. "What am I doing here?"
If only she had had more words.

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