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 |  my entries for the Construct Cup |
| eighteen years ago I first saw Memphis—sprawling on top of the bluff, the mighty Mississippi a dark shadow below. the streets meandered along forgotten cow paths and I thought about the time— eighteen months before— when I left the wheel of DC for England’s green hills and ordered hedgerows. Memphis gave me my first salary and my first flash flood and my first time coming home to the news that my house had been burgled. I watched three sisters marry here and met four nieces and nephews for the first time. and said goodbye to one. I got sick here, which isn’t Memphis’ fault. here, in a little room overlooking a construction site where apartment buildings were turning into the Panera where we go every Tuesday to knit, I learned to check my blood, to draw medicine to inject. I learned to live here. I grew here. I found writing again and wrote and shared and revised and edited and wrote again until my fingers ached and I could explain why I wrote what I did. I’ve studied here for so long that it feels strange to admit that my time is over and I’m done studying. I should be doing. I’ve never lived anywhere longer. eighteen whole years—it feels so long and I keep expecting the place to ensnare me with roots—emerging from the ground like some alien being. but I tread this world lightly, and the winds are calling and I want to fly away somewhere new. there are adventures still, elsewhere. line count: 52 Prompt ▼ |
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