![]() ![]() ![]() She took me in, and I’m sure she’s doing her best. But, I’d be alone, then! How can I think such things? She’s my father’s mother. It’s shameful, but last night I actually wished for the stormwitch to send another spirit, and I hoped that spirit would eat Grandmother Jones. Why did I have to come here? Why did she have to be my closest relative? Is living in Mississippi my punishment for being too weak to save you from the stormwitch? Magic means a fast trip to Hell here, and Grandmother Jones seems certain I’ve booked my passage. This place might as well be a dim star lost in the night sky. The beaches are straight and blank, and the sand feels filthy with hate and anger. I thought Mississippi would be like Haiti. I’ve never known a woman-or a place-so far from Haiti. She called the islands “backward,” and when she caught me dancing the way you taught me, she swore I was Satan’s tool. It’s been another long day, and Grandmother Jones seems no happier with me. I can’t imagine our African foremothers singing of great battles in English. Writing makes it easier to find the words. ![]() It may be cheating, to write instead of speaking out loud. ![]() Are you proud? You always tried so hard to teach me. I’m writing in English so I practice the language. I’m practicing my letters and my writing, do you see? Just like you always wanted me to do. Only twelve weeks, but it feels like years. Three months have passed since I saw your smile, since I had your guidance. ![]()
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