Wilkinson, Lili, 1981-2020
Books, Manuscripts
I wake up, and for a few precious seconds I don't realise there's anything wrong. The rumble of tyres on bitumen, and the hiss of air conditioning. The murmur of voices. The smell of air freshener. The cool vibration of glass against my forehead. A girl wakes up on a self-driving bus. She has no ...
