Hollow
by Paula Ray
His mouth is a flesh cave where a grizzly slumbers and winter is the blank page of my face. We danced beneath a cherry blossom tree when the weather tricked us into believing flowers and seeds promised a future. I tiptoe now. It's best that way. The traces of my body disappear into the snow.
We don't talk about the possibility anymore. My clouds have stopped forming balloon animals and I've never been good at reading his smoke signals. It's best that way.
Sometimes, I think he might roll over and look me in the eye, but I find comfort in the rhythm of his spine—vertebrae all lined in a row with their rigid points buried under fur, unlike mine. I have a crooked brittle backbone that sways in the slightest breeze. It couldn't hold up to the pressure, I tell myself.
I write vanishing names in the sand with a splintered limb and collect shells like memories—searching for the unbroken. Yesterday, I found a piece of sea-glass. For a moment, I thought it was a portal into why. I stared into its foggy-green-translucent belly and said her unborn name. It echoed in my empty womb.
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Author's Note
First appeared in Ophelia Street - Feb. 2010
Other stories by Paula Ray
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I admire the way you allowed your characters to become different creatures, and express themselves as different,since I imagine this is true with humans after a life-altering event. The grizzly seemed to almost be the same thing as the knowledge of the event - the tip toeing, the becoming used to acts of avoidance. I say too much. Well written, and challenging to write, I imagine.
Great mix of the here and the not here - can and cannot... Effective imagery throughout.
"I write vanishing names in the sand with a splintered limb and collect shells like memories—searching for the unbroken. Yesterday, I found a piece of sea-glass. For a moment, I thought it was a portal into why."
Good piece, Paula.
'and winter is the blank page of my face,' what a lovely image perfectly placed. So many beautiful images here created with care. *
Your imagery is flawless, matched with a wonderful imagination. I love: "For a moment, I thought it was a portal into why."
So much hope and so much disappointment.
I love this bit:
We danced beneath a cherry blossom tree when the weather tricked us into believing flowers and seeds promised a future. I tiptoe now. It's best that way. The traces of my body disappear into the snow.
In the skin of a bear, you've said said much about humans and our longings.
wonderful imagery, as noted by others. "I thought it was a portal into why" gets to me most. great read that leaves a bitter aftertaste where the "grizzly slumbers."
"We don't talk about the possibility anymore. My clouds have stopped forming balloon animals and I've never been good at reading his smoke signals. It's best that way."
Lovely moment in a beautifully written story. *
"I write vanishing names in the sand with a splintered limb"--you who are capable of writing an immaculately crafted sentence like this have a talent for greatness, Paula.