Tiff ☆’s Reviews > Ghostroots: Stories > Status Update

If she engaged every atom of her person, if she sent all her weight toward her feet, would her burdens be swept away with the tide?

—how does one fall as a bird and land as a woman?

The Hollow

Not a serene calmness, but a muzzled nothingness. Like a familiar hand across a mouth.

Had we, too, not always wanted to shed our parts, be lighter, be nothing, be free?

But what would the scar say if it could speak?
If the body could tell what it doesn't forget, doesn't process?

Let the past stay there, abeg. There are stories we leave buried so our children can move without weight.