Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Set Sail

“The world is such a wonderful place” he said, with voice trailing off into the collage of noises: bare thighs scraping down the slide, children’s laughter, dogs barking, frog song and low flying airplanes overhead. Yoshii sat with her body folded in half, knees pulled into breasts, on the wooden pylons skirting the play set, its borders creating a sea of woodchips and discarded toys. She sank her feet into it with silent delight, her eyes patiently following her son’s interactions with the American children; she somehow hoped for a better integration than her own into this land of excess. Her voice rang out in the high, clipped language full of intonations that kept him isolated like a buoy; the warnings shouted for safety, as he blindly followed the pack of cabin-fevered children all in a swarm of awkward legs and new teeth, while they chased the oldest boy on his bicycle. Yoshii thought for a moment of her own childhood, of the freedoms never tasted the way her son’s tongue has, and it filled her inside to see him grab this life with both hands, to put the world in his mouth and bite without hesitation. She readjusted the pleat of her limbs, her feet still submerged in the wooden ocean and bowed her head in thanks for the gifts of this moment. Aleathia Drehmer 2008 Published by Debris Magazine 7/08

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