Evolution

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There was a crag and a moment…

…but now there is only awareness of damp, worm-bored earth, and soft forms winding around me, clearing paths for my arms, fingers, and legs.

There was a moment and a gasp…

…and then a scent…

…of my mother’s ivory soap, and I regret hating her for being odd.

Under flickering fluorescent lights, near shelves stacked with jars of soil and water and germinating seeds, their roots pressed frantically against glass, and tables cluttered with slides of dried blood, my father tried to expl...