Eventually I’m going to have to come down. I didn’t mean to be swept this far over the mountains, over the royal blue waters blending into soft sandy mutes. I run like any other girl driven to flowers, except when I reach that speed that pulls my blouse behind me, my feet forget the round; I am lifted. This day I float too high and I’m scared more than usual.
The last house leaves me flying over industrial lands. I look back at the brick wall sacrificing these figurines to their gods, a disruption in an image that reminds me of my dilemma.
“They are fossils, and I think this map goes with them. See how the skeletons come to life in these drawings. Where did these come from?” I gently land like a goose to the waters outside a concrete garage. I know these people.
Recalling my adventure, I remember ice cream and men - their skins glistening in heat, tight over strength - the ice cream in pints, fed to my tongue. I watch his smooth, plump lips slightly parted to encourage my own. I was there on an errand, yes, still an accident, but at least I was not lost. These men in their bodies knew what I meant and they gave me what I needed. I needed to breathe harder.