Restart

The metal clicks with every turn of my wrist. I like the tinkling sound the charms make as they dangle, one next to the other. Their strings are entwined, walnut brown overlaps coral, and I think of the inky black eyes that gave these to me. We are thousands of miles away and every metallic flutter pricks the edges of my heart. The tingle threatens a tsunami of memories that I’m trying to avoid as a I timidly crawl into this new life.

My days are filled with errands that require constant guidance, the unfamiliarity like salt in an almost healed wound. My silver Subaru lumbers up hills with unforeseen summits, and I wonder if my car feels at home. I think it does, that it fits in perfectly to this place, and I worry about if I will.

This still feels like a visit, and I can’t quite get back to the reality of my old life. I am holding my breath, waiting for humidity and familiar faces, but I know I’ve left those behind.

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