Rina sat on the edge of the high rocks and dangled her gangly legs over the crash of the sea below. It growled at her as if it were a circus lion set free on a cruel ringmaster, and so she faced the gray above and welcomed the cool mist covering everything as if the sky knew love. She would pretend when she was smaller that Earth was evil and the sky was good, so that every day basked in ceaseless adoration. And each night she would sleep with her back to the grim hold of the ground and leave herself open to the wheel of stars spinning over her. There were times when Rina felt she could leave the Earth, especially on Winter nights when Orion raised his sword and shield and protected the Heavens from the drunken screams of her mother and the John she had moaning above her in the next room. And when it was Rina’s turn to pay the rent, she hoped the ground would swallow their spilled seed while the sky would free her body from the bed. Yet neither had done their job and now she sat four months pregnant wanting to believe again in her childhood. At fourteen years old, Rina had lost faith in everything, but she had to believe just one more time. That freedom from the sick grip of men was only a breath away. And when she nudged herself over the edge, she felt joy in her brief flight. She knew the sky would hold her and her child forever next to brave Orion while the sea would wash away her sin.
This begins a long-planned ten photo-story collaboration with the profoundly talented @peregrinasola. I have written #microfiction to five of her photos and she did the same to five of mine. No schedule for these, but they’ll appear in close proximity in feeds following both of us. Ranjana is an incredible person and of you don’t follow her, you really should! #jsrvcollab
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