Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse
The monster has been here. I can smell him.
She stops. Keeps her eyes on the horizon. “Everyone mourns different,” she says quietly, her voice thick with compassion. “When I lost my Rick, people thought I should wail and tear my hair out. But I didn’t even cry, not once. I poured myself into my work, my kids. I let purpose eat up all those tears instead.” She sighs, heavy with memory. “But when I lost my baby, my firstborn, Cletus, Id like to cry enough to flood the whole of Dinetah, I was wrung out so bad.” She wipes at her brow with her rag. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop crying for that child.”
Fridays are for Book Beginnings on Rose City Reader, Friday 56 on Freda’s Voice
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