It would go on to swim intractable distances, covering kilometres upon kilometres in a single day, as she’d intended for it to do—a ship of sorts. There are things created to hold other things. A bumboat. A junkyard. A bungalow. A hearse. The plastic bag girl too, in a certain sense. Except that instead of germ cells, genomes and other broken translations of the old world, she had imagined her body to carry things far more intricate and beautiful.
