Theea
i have been trying to wander more
”Well…” I step back and put my hands on my hips with a grin, and… ”Shit.”
The rope-hung lanterns look more like a bird’s nest than a light-line—loops and knots cinched so tight I wonder how they ever carried their own weight. I approach the bench beneath the string, and I unhook one side, fingers probing for the first twist.
I slip off my right glove, wedge it under my belt, and work the tangle by feel. The hemp is rough, pinching skin if I yank too hard, so I loosen each knot the way Mom taught me when our clothesline went rogue: press, wiggle, breathe, repeat. One loop gives; a lantern thunks softly against my shoulder. I cradle it until the next knot slackens, then feed the freed rope back through its guide eye.
Theea stands up on a bench to reach and untangle the string lights!
The rope-hung lanterns look more like a bird’s nest than a light-line—loops and knots cinched so tight I wonder how they ever carried their own weight. I approach the bench beneath the string, and I unhook one side, fingers probing for the first twist.
I slip off my right glove, wedge it under my belt, and work the tangle by feel. The hemp is rough, pinching skin if I yank too hard, so I loosen each knot the way Mom taught me when our clothesline went rogue: press, wiggle, breathe, repeat. One loop gives; a lantern thunks softly against my shoulder. I cradle it until the next knot slackens, then feed the freed rope back through its guide eye.
Theea stands up on a bench to reach and untangle the string lights!
i have been trying to breathe more, to love my lostness
