Dystopia’s Child
Nov 1 · 4 min read
(Previously published in “LUMINA” vol. XVIII)
You don’t know who you are, really. The name you were born with, the names of your parents, or grandparents. You don’t know if you have siblings, or the name of the city you come from. There’s a story about how you got to where you are today, some fairy tale of how you got to be part of the family you now call your own. You don’t know if you believe it.

