On Division

by Goldie Goldbloom

Behind their hands, the community gossiped about Lipa, her sixth child, who had died four years earlier. And as a result, her little pearl, her seventh child, had to settle for a husband and a new family well beneath her or risk remaining unmarried.

Lipa

“It’s because I’m a mother,” Surie said. “They trust me. That’s why that girl spoke to me when she wouldn’t speak to anyone else.” The headband twisting between the girl’s hands, such small, pale hands. “Nothing against you, but that orange hair doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.” Val almost shouted with surprise, and then they both laughed.

Val

from the basement. And when she found a moment to go and find them herself,

“To become an adult, a child must hate the ones he loves the most,” he said. “Lipa hated me too. He hated all of us sometimes. They all do. But they love us as well.”

Adult