Erin Stewart

But there is no lightning bolt of insanity. It’s more like a drizzling leak you don’t even notice until you’re gasping for air, suddenly and irrevocably aware that you’ve drowned in your own thoughts.

curternus (n) The act of running toward a goal that keeps moving, ever so slightly, out of your grasp, as if you’re a hamster on a wheel to nowhere, believing that if you can just go a little more, a little farther, you’ll win.

From Latin cursus (running) + aeternus (eternal)

“Expose the dark places to the light.” He gestures wildly as he talks. “The parts that scare you most, that’s where the artist is born, for fear comes from the mind. And art comes from the heart.”

essombra (n) When someone you once knew disappears. Not dead, still breathing, and yet…gone.

From Latin esse (to exist) + Spanish sombra (shadow)

I hide them deep behind my ribs, tucked neatly by my heart, with all the other words I keep.

“The ancient Scottish have a word: sjushamillabakka,” I say. “Where the sea meets the shore. Not quite water, not quite land. An in-between border realm.”

It’s sad.

And beautiful.

All at once.

“I didn’t mean to scare everyone.” Alice’s voice is small and tight. “It’s just, sometimes, I can’t breathe here, you know?”

I do.

I do know.

I almost say it, too.

But someone has to hold this family together.