Losing Katy, by Susanna Reece

Of course I lost her anyway, bang in the middle of the freeway beneath a hot-blue California sky. No-one owned her but she didn’t belong there, not there, under the wheels of that SUV. The day sizzled and the traffic was as slow as a tortoise munching its way through a lettuce leaf. Her diamante shards sparkled the tarmac and there was a slow trickle of blood, the kind that’s so thick you know it’s no good. God it was hot, waiting. Hardly anyone stopped, just this one skinhead guy on a motorbike with a swastika tattoo. She’d have appreciated that.