The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

by Beth Brower

“Of course he is. But sometimes family gets their minds stuck on what a person is, and they won’t let it go.

I’ve come away from the sea for a moment, and Lapis Lazuli has wrapped itself around me. As if having found anchor, I’ve set down my heavy sea chest.

Foolishness perhaps. Yet comforting. As stories are sometimes meant to be.

“He said he wished you to be wise, and good, and true to the beatings of your own heart, and hoped that you could be spared the extremes of society, both the very poor and the very rich, so that neither need nor indulgence would spoil the soul he loved more than anything else in the world.”

As a child, I always thought the shadows cast at Christmastide held something of magic in them. That if you pried up the edges, light would come spilling out from the nooks and crannies of the day.

“He said”—and Racket gave the exact wording his full consideration—“tell her it’s easier to confess in the morning, but more beautiful to confess at dusk.”