Why Is Luisa Running Before Anyone Knows What Chased Her?

The page buckled under Luisa’s feet.

A second earlier she had been moving through a charcoal street, fast but steady, one hand skimming a wall of pencil shade, the other clutching the edge of her white beanie as if that small grip could keep the world from tearing again. Then the ground rippled like wet paper. A crack of white split the sketched road in front of her. The whole city twitched, erased itself by an inch, and drew itself back wrong.