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MAIREAD CASE

17

Tiny knows her life is different now. Again.

For as long as she can remember, Tiny has felt pulled away

from this house. It isn’t a strong pull, but it is undeniable,

like her third eye is also a metal, and magnets hover in the

air outside. This is not a question of fate or forces, or even

restlessness. It’s a small headache, and a question about

belonging. Tiny’s home does not exist yet, or else it exists

multiply, and in either case she must leave here to find it.

This is a fact. It is not something to fix.

When Tiny stands in front of something, she faces it.

Tiny is the tree growing towards the light and holding the

dark. She is the plant growing on that tree, sponging food

and water from the surrounding air, and she is the parasite

eating the tree itself.

Something here will kill her too, but never, ever completely.