The Waiting Stars
…nto the body that belonged to her all along; into the arms of her family. “Come on, come on,” the women whisper, and their voices are stronger than any other noise; than Jason’s breath in the bedroom; than the motors of the floaters or the vague smell of garlic from the kitchen. “Come on, great-aunt!” She is more than this body; more than this constrained life–her thoughts spread out, encompassing hangars and living quarters; and the liquid weight…