For a moment, Kara didn’t want to go any nearer. It was barely a fraction of a second, but a fear had gotten through—something wild and primal.
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I know—I am difficult to read. My resting expression is placid, the most mysterious. They tell me my eyes are especially plain. Two bowls of brown rice—nothing in them. And yet my feelings are far from simple. My soul, too, is heavy with emotion.
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I thought, if ostriches are mistaken for hiding when they bury their heads in sand, then what about teenage girls? Why aren’t we afforded that grace?
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I’d never seen an ocean, but in the middle of flatlands and cornfields, a flood of ocean sounds filled his basement bedroom and my ears.
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I’m frozen in place by this turbulent vortex I cannot explain. This towering force rolls across the park, over me, through me, but somehow the air hangs silent and still and heavy. How can empty-still-silent air hold so much?
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For a long time my work has explored methods for breeding urban environments using organic models—multicellular organisms’ reproductive and propulsion strategies, pollination methods employed by plants, or stellar birth.
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