hiraeth
“Faith is the power to stand up to the madness and chaos of the physical world while holding the position that nothing external has any authority over what heaven has in mind for you.”
The girl climbed into the box because it was small and contained. It looked comfortable. She liked things that clung close to her skin. Womb-like. The box glittered under the moonlight and as the girl ran her hands over its surface, its warmth entered her bones. She pried back the top, its heaviness announced with a sigh, and peered into the small crevasse. It was wide and long enough for her body. The bottom was soft, it had been lined with a fur blanket. The edges were painted silver and reflected the cold, hard rock in the sky. The girl had never existed in such a place before. Why not? She thought to herself, and climbed in. She tucked her knees to her chest and leaned her head back against the edge to look up at the clouds. The sky shuddered and swirled. Stars, so many of them, blinked at her. The girl blinked back and yawned. She shifted to lay on her side in the fetal position. Her back rounded, her feet tucked up tight. She felt safe and supported. She slept under the blink-blink-blink of light and when she woke up, she was covered in dew. Damp and sticky. Another day.
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