Transcendent Kingdom

by Yaa Gyasi

This was in stark contrast to my time on the East Coast, where beauty was hard won, where every brilliant day had to be savored, the memories of them stored like acorns buried underground by industrious squirrels, just to get you through those punishing winters. That first winter in Massachusetts, with snow piled up to my knees, I’d missed Alabama with an intensity I hadn’t thought possible. I craved heat and light the way other people craved coffee and cigarettes.