I Was Seventeen and a Half by Sophie Hoss

and in those days I played chicken with life and roulette with oblivion. I ducked under the lowered crossing signals to race the oncoming train across the tracks, and when I reached the other side, I turned and saw a girl I knew from school jumping after me. She was three years younger, the girl, and as soon as she cleared the tracks, the train flew behind and missed her small body by an inch, slicing so close that her dark hair—long and loose—swept over her face like a sheet of black rain.

Sophie Hoss loves the ocean and is in bed by 9 pm every night. She has received a Pushcart Prize, and her words are scattered around in BOMB Magazine, The Baffler, Los Angeles Review, The Southampton Review, Wigleaf, and elsewhere. Also, she has a small dog named Elmo who likes to wear little sweaters. You can read more of her work at sophiehosswriting.com.