Temporary

by Hilary Leichter

I notice that when I say certain unfamiliar words, he repeats them later in conversation, mispronouncing them, which makes my heart feel larger than ever before. He grows and grows and grows.

All the same bank. New stores. All the same stores. I don’t recognize a single thing, and I recognize everything. It’s exhausting.

They noticed the continuous departures of kindness and sloughed their skins to wear their hearts on their sleeves as reminders. They always noticed, with relief, prodigal kindness making its inevitable return.