Our collective moisture and heat condensating in the sky, the first cycle of a dynamic and unpredictable climate in this new home: the end of her quest.

On Easter morning I found the head lodged in the dirt of my backyard, upright and still alive.

When she opened her eyes, she found that the water stain on the ceiling had grown even larger.

I am preparing myself for the act of shaking hands with Sólheimajökull, 36.8 degrees °C greeting freezing, as the bus drives through a landscape of lush hills filled with grass and sheep who won’t become meat-market fashion victims if I have a say in the matter, which I don’t.

We do not forget, especially when we try. And that is why I will not fill your head with these stories: you will have nothing to forget.

Here’s what really happened: I was supposed to be a twin but then I ate her. It. Absorbed it, for nutrients, in like the first trimester.