by Chacha Jaramillo
Not every rage arrives screaming. Some of it waits quietly,collecting weight,collecting memory,collecting names. Welcome to the containment zone. A psychological slow-burn about quiet rage, restraint, and the dangerous things left unsaid. Not ranting.Seething.
| # | Title | Words |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Chapter 1: Contained | 0 |
| 2 | Blinding lights | 0 |
| 3 | Blinding lights | 0 |
| 4 | Blinding lights | 0 |
