“Girl thinks about what happens when someone has a heart attack. How the main artery becomes too blocked to allow oxygen to pass. That without oxygen, the muscle cells and tissues begin to die. She knows that sometimes a person can survive an attack. The muscle can heal like a skin wound, and like a wound, a scar forms over the damage. But after that, the heart just isn’t that strong. It can’t beat as hard, or as much. She also knows that sometimes a person can’t survive at all, and in that case, the heart just starves to death.”
– Dima Alzayat, “A Girl in Three Acts,” Alligator & other stories
Do you ever wonder what happens in the contemplative wormholes you gaze through, the atomic spaces outside the walls or the ceiling, or the endless earth outside the window where your thoughts stop? Where would the traveling mind rest if it ever caught a horizon?
Anyway, I’m reading Alligator & other stories by Dina Alazayat and it really speaks to me. I think it’s important to avoid appropriating POC experiences, but the parts that speak about women and our particular heartaches are swift to isolate the soul. I think I want to wake up a day and not worry about what I’ll regret or what new hills and mountains there are. I would like a path not made of glass or echoes of my own voice in my microcosm. I would like to think I could still be relevant even if someday it’s discovered I made a post about struggling to keep my head above black water.