Vida Chart |work| ⟶

She looked at . That was next March. Salt preserved. Salt stung wounds. Salt was a crystal, a seasoning, a curse (sow the earth with it). She had no idea.

. A sound that returns. A memory that calls back. Or a voice you’ve heard before. vida chart

Salt, she decided, could be the year she finally learned to taste her own life. She looked at

The year she graduated college, two sides to everything. The flip of a coin to choose a city, a major, a boy. The feeling of luck, both good and bad, landing on its edge. Salt stung wounds

Her mother’s illness. The long, dark hallway of sophomore year. Hospital visits after school. The way she’d stopped talking. A tunnel you walk through, not around. Yes.