How much can a little girl lose? What has she left to gain?
These questions are at the crux of "Antigua Rising," a short story about loss, adaptation, and revival in rural America.
She was in the bus on her way home from school when she first saw Antigua dead on the highway.
“I used orange and green string.” The boy next to her held out a dream catcher he'd made in class. It was crooked and looked stomped on.
The girl didn't acknowledge him. She stared out the window at something they passed by in the bus, something in the road. She craned her neck, watched whatever it was being left behind, and then turned around in the seat. Her pulse crashed in her ears. She bunched her dress up in her fists.
“Hey,” said the boy, “are you all right?”
She nodded.
After a moment, the boy moved to a different seat with the dream catcher.
advertisement