Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
Melita, for her part, didn’t know what to do.
Follow the wakes of storms, and the beat of the waves, press and wind into the ocean until she found those mercurial outlets and tempestuous eaves? Stare into the expanse of the house, into the collected filaments of burnt edges and hollowed ramparts? Reflect upon what had been built, and torn apart so easily?
Or did she survey the emotions under all those scars – to the family beaten and bludgeoned, and her incapable of doing anything?
She avoided the angles of the cinders and embers, seeking some sort of respite and refuge in the comfort of her room, in the shield and shelter, eyes towards the window. If she stared out over the clifftops, over the tides and currents, long enough – would anything matter?
A voice, soft and unlike its usual form, called toward her, and she swung her head. Her fingers clasped together, before reaching for him; uncertain if he wanted a hug, comfort, solidarity, or nothing in between. “How are you feeling?” was a dulcet whisper, uncertain how else to break into the void.
Follow the wakes of storms, and the beat of the waves, press and wind into the ocean until she found those mercurial outlets and tempestuous eaves? Stare into the expanse of the house, into the collected filaments of burnt edges and hollowed ramparts? Reflect upon what had been built, and torn apart so easily?
Or did she survey the emotions under all those scars – to the family beaten and bludgeoned, and her incapable of doing anything?
She avoided the angles of the cinders and embers, seeking some sort of respite and refuge in the comfort of her room, in the shield and shelter, eyes towards the window. If she stared out over the clifftops, over the tides and currents, long enough – would anything matter?
A voice, soft and unlike its usual form, called toward her, and she swung her head. Her fingers clasped together, before reaching for him; uncertain if he wanted a hug, comfort, solidarity, or nothing in between. “How are you feeling?” was a dulcet whisper, uncertain how else to break into the void.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
