All of us can be altered in a blink. Fire reduces you to nothing. Dad’s body in an urn on the bookshelf. Water erodes rocks. Cliffs crumble. You are not real, Biz— It’s true. Perhaps I am actually the fire? Or the sea? Perhaps I am every leaping molecule. The fire pops, showering sparks. “Whoa!” says Jasper. He reaches across my body instinctively. A wave crashes. And I flip back in—a slow somersault into my body. My belly is warm. My mouth is full of sweet and salt. My skin is here, my body, my bones. Take it for now; take it in, Biz. Hold it, this trembling, borrowed time.
