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       ◝     ⟢     ˖       it was a long shot to come all the way down to the abandoned supermarket to scavenge,  and it was particularly dangerous to do it alone.   but their brother had been asleep,  tired out of his poor mind after his own scavenging adventures the night prior,  and jack saw an opportunity they rarely had these days:  spend some time alone,  doing this at their rhythm,  on their terms.   so,  here they were now,  armed with their usual pocket knife,  an empty bag,  and a heart full of hope.   because you had to have hope to search a supermarket two months into an apocalyptic outbreak  —  it was,  easily,  the first place people raided,  the first place to run out of things,  and the first one to get swamped by infected.   however,  jack persevered,  and her determination  (  or stubbornness—you’re welcome to call it what you want  )  paid off when she entered the storage section and among several opened boxes, she found an unopened one. “  bingo,  bastards  …  ”     she murmured with a smirk,  her quiet steps taking her to her goal as she swiftly retrieved her pocket knife from her jeans.   she sighed in anticipation,  sliding the edge of the knife under one of the box’s borders,  and then—thud.   the noise froze jack’s blood in her veins,  turned her paler than she was,  and made her hold her breath until she got dizzy.   her fist closed tighter around her knife,  and her body moved on auto-pilot  —  defense mode,  attack position.     “  whoever you are—whatever you are,  get out and fight me,  bitch,  i don’t have all day.  ”

KAROLINA WYDRA for Numéro Netherlands, Jan 2026 (📷 by Erica Hernández)

Georges Bataille, Schizogenesis | La Scissiparité (1949)

James Baldwin  This morning, this evening, so soon