i thought i had it but it went flickering off and on again like shoddy electricity or a super big storm. you can have something and then lose it. it’s disturbing but it’s true. so i glued it to the wall where i could keep my eyes on it. i posted it on the mirror, after the glue wore out and it dropped behind a stack of books and papers. i brushed my teeth to the sound of it, foaming at the mouth. one night it swam down the drain. i broke it out of the plumbing system, what a messy affair. i let it dry beside the jade tree, on the windowsill, hoping against hope it would never leave me again. but it fled underground, planting itself beneath the jade. i watered her faithfully, against the wishes of the jade, until the roots took it up and brought her back to me, a flower. i smiled. i picked her off and thread it into my hair. everyone commented how pretty we were, together. then, that spring, the wind carried her away… when i listen very close, i can still hear her calling, my voice, calling for me. that’s when i know i must be alone. and write. -katya mills
After many weeks of fasting and prayer, her heart opened up like a flower. This was best witnessed in fourth dimension animé. You could not have seen it in real life, real time, without superhuman patience. The process covered 24 hours elapsed, plus or minus two. She opened her heart and unfolded it. She opened it for you.