Escape pod. Episode 857. Salvaged. By Adriana Cantgeva.

Hello and welcome to Escape pod, your weekly science fiction podcast. I'm Valerie Veldes, your host for this episode.

Our story this week is salvaged by Adriana Cantgeva. This is an Escape pod original.

Adriana Cantgeva is a Bulgarian writer of speculative fiction with an idealistic bend.

She lived in six countries before settling in southern Germany with her husband and their three children.

Earlier, she earned a PhD in molecular biology and worked as a science editor, but she prefers to research stories.

Her fiction has appeared in short circuit, stupefying stories, shoreline of infinity and elsewhere.

She's also made a home at CatchingWords.com and can be found on Twitter as a Cantgeva or Instagram as Adriana Cantgeva.

Our narrator, Cara Grace, is a green witch from Michigan.

As you read this, she is probably in the woods somewhere waiting through the lily pads in a quiet pond or laughing at an inside joke with her favorite grove of trees.

She is a geographer during the day, a fine dining waitress by night, and an aspiring artist of botanical and prismatic magic every other moment she can find.

She loves the written word in every form, whether it be poetry, podcasts, fiction, or taking a moment to spin a world with words herself.

She has enjoyed reading alouds and she was in middle school, hand in the air every time the teachers asked who wanted to read next.

She loves bringing life to words and sees it as a form of magical alchemy.

She loves to cultivate all kinds of herbs and flowers, but her favorite is detoura, sacred moon flowers that only bloom at night during the warm months.

You can catch her on Twitter at detoura delfina, and if you're interested in a celestial sun catcher, head over to her soon to be stocked at C-shop at detoura grove or on Instagram at the same name.

Now get ready to hear an old story of snow, blood, and apples retold in a new space, because it's story time.

Self-idged by Adriana Kanchiva, narrated by Kara Grace.

I have her body. If I'd also had her life, would I have lived it in the same way?

I make the mistake of voicing my thoughts to seven, who promptly activates what I call his melancholy setting.

I can tell from how the blue signal lights in his communications subunit start blinking in a slow hypnotic rhythm.

Why are you thinking about her again? He says, you'll never encounter her circumstances. I walk over to my porthole.

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