Braids
Threads of your own choice
Braid according to your personal preference
~*~
I find sitting under the casuarina a comfort. The sun is warm, its rays golden on the needles. Mother loves the tree. It has a story. It lived through The Great Eruption and survives, thriving in the sea air and sandy soil.
On its spiraling branches hang the trinkets, pieces of cloth and glass stones – wishes of the people. I braid my own wishes and hang them up. Wish for something. Wish for my gift to drop from the sky or seep upwards from the earth.
I want to -
I am not sure what I want. What can a heretic wish for?
Tree. The taste of salt on my tongue, the hint of gold red, like the shawl of Dongzhen’s mother.
Now. Dongzhen. He is such an annoying boy. He travelled from the Ridge on an exchange program, something Mother and his parents had agreed on a long time ago.
Silly boy. I find little gifts of casuarina seeds on my window sill, woven with silver wire and casuarina needles. I know it’s him.
I smile. Dongzhen – glutinous rice balls and sweet soup. The color of flint.
With a sigh, I hang the braids on the casuarina tree. My wishes. My life.
