Water Weight


Title: Water Weight Words by Zoe Meager Pictures by Helena Pantsis My sister has been crying for years. It started in the fitting rooms at kmart, the day she snivelled into the gusset of a bikini then slipped it back on the rack. The next day she threw a sook on the school bus, sent such a river of tears down the aisle that the driver had to wring out his socks. Image of feet in a dressing room in a puddle, image of a school bus flooded, image of hands wringing out socks.   After that, she bawled at the movies, so thunderously and so frequently that people started bringing umbrellas. When the local pool dried up one deadbeat summer, they drove my sister down and let her rip. Today, our mum has made broth no more than heat flavour and steam. Image of a crying face, a movie theater flooded by rain, an empty swimming pool and a bowl of broth.She's set a place for each of us, covered the table with a cloth the color of peace. My sister picks up her spoon and dips into the liquid, experimental as a kitten with its paw. Her face screws up. She begins to shake. 'Just whatever you can manage, eh love" mom says. But my sister lets her spoonful trickle back into the bowl, repulsed by the fat that ruin its surface. Image of a table with three settings. Second panel a hand holds a spoon filled with liquid. Third panel shows the spoon tipping the liquid out. Final image is three people sitting at the table.Mum looks at the floor and keeps her screams inside and my sister gets to work adding salt to the broth drop by broken drop. Image of a woman holding her face crying, floor filling with tears, eye filling with tears, a spoon over a bowl.



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